《Mage [Epic Fantasy, Dieselpunk, Post-Apocalyptic]》 Chapter 1: The Last Mage
PART ONE: VALE The Way of the Mark Tenet #1 ¡°Honor followers of The Way of the Mark. When meeting another mage, always offer to share one spell in greeting.¡± Tenet #2 ¡°Keep the histories and pass them on to your apprentices. Share stories of mages past to protect yourself from The Weakness.¡±
Chapter 1: THE LAST MAGE On the distant horizon I saw the jagged peaks of The Broken Mountains, a reminder of a time long past. It was said an expansive forest once covered those mountains, forest often blanketed by thick snow. A wave of complicated emotions welled up inside me as I saw only brown smudges on the mountains now. No more forests, and certainly no snow. Other questions lingered as I walked toward this ancient mountain range. Would they kill a mage on sight? I wondered, taking a ragged breath. Either way, I had no choice. I couldn¡¯t give up now. The air smelled different here. It had a chemical stench, the acrid scent of worked oil and machinery, alongside the low and persistent hum of humanity hanging over everything. I hadn¡¯t seen another person in months of searching, and the solitude felt strange ¡ª more strange than I could articulate. I felt more alone than I ever had before. But now, with every step, I grew closer to being surrounded by humanity again. Vale wasn¡¯t just the last real city; it was home to ¡°the Motorized,¡± persecutors of The Way, and here I was, walking right into their arms. A telltale line of smoke rose from the base of the tallest mountain ahead. Eagerness shuddered through me, mingling with a rising fear. The Motorized would kill any mage on sight, yet this was also the chance I¡¯d been seeking for years. I had to risk everything I¡¯d fought for my entire life to attain. Questions haunted me: Was I the last mage alive? Would I carry all I¡¯d learned to the grave? I would find someone here, or it would be over. Finally. Haste could be my downfall, taking with it everything I had learned in a lifetime of training and searching. I took off my worn black hat and wiped my forehead with a tattered rag. It dried instantly, though the sweat ring around the brim of my hat lingered. My hands worked some moisture from the rag into my dry, cracked skin, which felt as parched as the land appeared. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! Looking up, I saw a crumpled form lying on the desert floor some yards ahead of me. I¡¯d missed seeing it before as the sand-colored cloak helped the form blend into the terrain. Replacing my hat, I moved cautiously toward the body¡ªit was a man. Kneeling down, I put my hand on his shoulder to roll him over. Suddenly, the man leaped up like a jackrabbit, scurrying a few yards away and crouching, wild-eyed. His long, tangled hair and dusty beard made him appear feral. A jagged scar marred his left temple. I raised my hand. ¡°I¡¯m not going to hurt you,¡± I said. ¡°Are you thirsty?¡± His face changed, revealing a desperate thirst. ¡°I can get you water,¡± I said. He nodded, almost imperceptibly. Slowly, so as not to startle him, I drew a small metallic cup from my leather bag and picked up a fist-sized rock from what might have once been a creek bed. The man watched me like a mouse watches a hawk. I closed my eyes, seeking out the faint hum in and around the rock, the universal synergy present in all matter. I attuned myself to this gentle thrumming. All mages of The Way began their training by learning to sense this innate and magical potential. Then I felt it ¡ª the familiar source of magic, the Well. Opening myself to it, magic flowed into me, ready and available for what came next. Bumps rose on my arms as the hair on the back of my neck stood up. Casting a spell was still exhilarating, even after all these years, despite the weight this action now carried. With a focused breath and a moment of concentration, I swiped my left hand over the rock, unlocking its form and draining it of its matter. The rock¡¯s very essence shifted. I opened my eyes just as the rock snapped out of existence, its matter now at my disposal. The man¡¯s eyes widened in shock as he glanced from me to the aluminum cup. With a practiced wave of both hands and a downward slap with my right hand, I sent the swirling matter from the rock into the cup, weaving it into a new form. I concentrated for a moment, feeling the familiar internal rush as I did so, a feeling I¡¯d known thousands of times before. I could trigger the final transformation in any number of ways, from the flick of a wrist or a clap of my hands, to a few specific words, depending on how the spell had been crafted. This time, for this particular spell, I spoke the words I¡¯d learned long before under my breath, ¡°From bitter to sweet,¡± I said. Suddenly, the metallic cup overflowed with water as the rock transformed. I handed it to the man, who took it greedily, slurping it down. A few drops spilled to the desert floor, the dark stains disappearing instantly. The number of others who could perform this spell had grown increasingly small, and the spell felt more powerful than ever before. As a result, the rock transformed into more water than it should have. I wondered idly who had died to make it so. After draining the cup, the man handed it back to me. I replaced it in my bag and stood, looking out over the plains. ¡°Are you from Vale?¡± I asked. He nodded. ¡°Can you show me how to get there?¡± I asked, hoping to coax him back to the city, where he could find help. He shook his head, fear flashing in his eyes. I looked up, hearing something. Several dark shapes approached from the west, the direction of Vale. Someone had spotted us. They were likely soldiers ¡ª Motorized fighters armed with steam-powered scopes. What had they seen? I shuddered at the thought. The Motorized I¡¯d encountered in the past were not known for their subtlety. Would I be able to greet them without arousing suspicion, or would the array of rare matter in my pack betray me? I would have preferred to sneak into Vale and get my bearings first. But I had no choice now. I had to introduce myself eventually. Chapter 2: Welcome to Vale Chapter 2: WELCOME TO VALE The dark shapes resolved into six figures riding steam-powered cycles. The guttural roar of their engines grew louder long before they came into view, belching black steam into the sky. As the men drew closer, I saw they wore tanned leathers and dirty cloaks, their hair greased or dreaded into thick clumps. Several wore goggles against the dust. The scarred man moved behind me, trembling. These types rarely made negotiation easy, and I knew what would happen if they searched me. I drew several glittering gold pieces from the pouch at my side, letting a couple fall into each hand. In my pouch, only a handful of gold pieces remained. A bump in a secret pocket revealed a single diamond, rare and priceless. I had pried it from a ring I found it years ago but had never used it. It was the most powerful spell-casting material I had left. The closest rider stopped a dozen feet away, leaping from his bike and raising a crossbow rifle that sputtered small bursts of steam, an oily discharge coating his arm. He didn¡¯t seem to notice. He stepped closer, sizing me up with dull, uninterested eyes. His long dreadlocked hair hung loosely, and a stubby cigar dangled from his lips. Looking me over, he dropped the weapon to his side, seeming less inclined to use it. ¡°It¡¯s just an old man and a homeless wanderer, Freegear! What did you say you saw ¡ª a mage?¡± the man growled, as his companions hopped off their bikes. ¡°He was waving his hands all funny,¡± a younger man insisted, holding a steam-powered scope. ¡°He¡¯s a mage, I tell you. He was doin¡¯ something out here.¡± ¡°You ain¡¯t ever seen a mage, Freegear,¡± the first man retorted. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t know one if he dropped a rock on your head.¡± He turned back to me, noticing the scarred man behind me but paying him no mind. ¡°What¡¯re you doing out in the middle of the desert, old man? How did you make it this far without transport?¡± ¡°Check his pack, Marken!¡± one of the others called out. Dreadlocks ¡ª presumably Marken ¡ª stepped toward me, reaching for my pack. I stepped back into a balanced stance, swinging my pack behind me. Dropping my arms to my sides, I palmed the small bits of gold. The scarred man lunged at Marken on all fours, growling, as if trying to protect me. All five men closed in, while young Freegear took a step back. Marken raised his crossbow again, pointing it at the scarred man, who flinched. ¡°Your pack, old man,¡± Marken demanded. ¡°You gotta pay tax to come into Vale.¡± ¡°What tax?¡± I asked. ¡°We decide what the tax is when we see what¡¯s in your pack,¡± Marken growled. The scarred man must have sensed the threat in Marken¡¯s tone because suddenly he launched himself at the thug. Marken, clearly accustomed to this sort of confrontation, intercepted the scarred man, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and drawing a blade from his belt. He sliced it across the man¡¯s neck. No! I thought, but I was already too late. I should''ve moved faster. I should done something, I thought as I looked at the scarred man''s body. Marken dropped his body to the dirt, wiping his blade on the scarred man¡¯s cloak. ¡°You see, old man? We ain¡¯t playin¡¯.¡± This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. I shuddered, my resolve wavering. I knew I would have to act now. Subtly, I drew several gold pieces into my hands, ready to transform them. Could I really do this? Was I ready for all that came next? I shook off the thoughts, trying not to look at the dying man, and steeled myself. Concentrate. Marken stepped forward, grabbing my wrist in an attempt to spin me around. I broke his hold and took a step back, maintaining a calm expression, arms still down at my sides. His eyebrows shot up. ¡°Watch out for him, I tell you!¡± Freegear warned from further back. ¡°You really want to fight, old man?¡± Marken yelled, surprised at my defiance. The others laughed, one licking his lips as if eager for a brawl ¡ª or a meal. ¡°You have no weapons. You want to make this hard on yourself?¡± ¡°You didn¡¯t ask nicely,¡± I said, glancing down at the scarred man. His blood now stained the desert floor. ¡°We¡¯re not your welcoming party, old man,¡± Marken sneered. ¡°Everyone¡¯s gotta pay the tax. Hand over your pack, and we might let you pass into the city.¡± I stepped behind my pack and spread my arms, feigning welcome. ¡°That¡¯s more like it,¡± he replied, nodding. The others holstered their weapons. Marken emptied my pack onto the ground, the contents spilling out ¡ª cloak, books, my black leather notebook, a few trinkets, a sheathed dagger, small pouches, dried meat, my aluminum cup, and a large bundle of leather tied with a strap. He picked up the small pouch, the cup, and several trinkets, tossing them back to the others, who grabbed for them greedily. Marken slid the dagger into his own belt. My breath quickened. Then Marken dropped to one knee, unrolling the large sheet of leather with small pouches sewn onto it. Most were empty now, but a few rare, green and blue sparkling gemstones were visible. Marken¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°He is a mage!¡± he cried. ¡°Take him down!¡± The men dove for their weapons. I had only seconds. Marken scrambled away from me while another fired a crossbow bolt at my head. I dodged, and it whizzed past me into the desert. I dropped the first gold piece and wove my hands in a circle, lifting a leg into the air, draining its matter. Marken recoiled backwards, his eyes widening. ¡°What in the holy hell are you doing?¡± he cried, fumbling with his crossbow. The gold piece vanished before it hit the ground. I quickly split its matter into six pieces, directing them toward each man. I finished the weave, flicked my wrist, and triggered the spell. Six small pockets of gunpowder exploded directly in front of each man. Three collapsed immediately, while the others staggered blindly, clawing at the air. One moaned as blood dripped from his ears before he fell to his knees. I dropped the second gold piece and drained its matter to nothing. I spun my arms in small circles, gradually increasing the size of the circles, building power. At the apex, I triggered the second spell and launched a seven-foot-tall desert cyclone toward the remaining men. The swirling vortex of air, sand, and howling wind knocked the men down, spinning motorcycles into the air, throwing bodies and machinery into the dirt. When the chaos settled, the remaining three men lay scattered, coughing and wounded. I quickly gathered my belongings, retrieving my pouches and cup, as well as the dagger from Marken¡¯s belt. I heard the click before I could drop to the ground. I whirled to see Freegear, blood-streaked but determined, lying flat with his crossbow aimed at me. He pulled the trigger. A flaming arrow zipped toward me, striking just below my ribs. Fire erupted upon impact, and I collapsed to the ground, rolling to extinguish the flames. The abrupt motion snapped the arrow off, leaving the shaft embedded in my side. Gasping for breath, I knelt, watching my blood spill to the sand. I took a deep breath, gripped the remains of the arrow, and yanked it out in a swift motion, tearing more flesh and skin from my side. I grunted, nearly passing out from the pain. Once it subsided, I looked down to see my shirt burnt and bloody. Lightheaded, I put a hand to the ground for support and pulled a sweat rag from my pocket, wincing as I pressed it against the wound to stanch the bleeding. For a moment, I wished I had studied healing magic, but I had pursued other avenues of study when mages were more numerous. Healers were scarce now. I stood, groaning and sweating, drawing a heavy piece of granite from the ground. I drained its matter and transformed it into a bulky walking stick, almost as tall as I was, which I leaned on for support. Freegear¡¯s eyes widened at the sight of the spell. I walked over to him and with a quick motion, drove the stick into Freegear¡¯s skull with a thud. He went limp on the sand. I destroyed each of the rifles and crossbows beneath my boots, salvaging some of the iron and steel for later use. I also pocketed a gold bracelet and a small vial of precious water. I drew on my pack and began hobbling toward Vale. With each step, pain seared through me, and dizziness began to creep in, accompanied by a relentless thought pulsing with every drop of blood that left my body. This wound could kill me. Bugger. I must have lost my touch. But I had to survive a little longer; I still had much to do. I needed to share what I knew of The Way ¡ª I had to pass along a lifetime of knowledge to someone, preferably another mage. Chapter 3: Every Eye On Me Chapter 3: EVERY EYE ON ME Before walking into Vale, I tore a strip from the blanket in my pack and tied it around my midsection. The sweat rag had already grown sodden and heavy with blood. If only I could use a spell to drain the blood of its matter and put it back in my body ¡ª but mages couldn¡¯t use blood like other matter, and patching up a wound wasn¡¯t my training or expertise anyway. I drew my long black duster from my pack and put the coat on, even in the oppressive heat, standing as tall as I dared. Despite the pain I felt, I took time to move quickly away from the scene of the fight, circling around toward the city from the south. I moved from dune to dune, from a stand of dead bushes to a couple of dead, fallen trees, covering my approach as best I could manage. On my long walk here, I¡¯d walked through numerous villages and towns, all of which had been emptied out and deserted. I assumed most of the citizens who used to populate these lands were either dead or now living in Vale. Decades ago, I traveled extensively with other mages from town to village to hamlet, offering help and guidance to those we met. This was part of our service to The Way. I traveled most often with a talented healer called Shaan. Shaan and I became close in our attempts to create a network of help for the farmers and fisherman and hunters living in these small villages. I still missed him and he¡¯d already been gone for a decade. After years of losing similar friends, I suspected I might be the last mage alive. I found my way toward the city slowly, hobbling and leaning heavily on my walking stick. In time, as I neared the outskirts, other citizens walking outside the walls helped camouflage my approach. Still, every breath pained my side as I crested a ridge, and the city appeared amid the rippling desert heat. Vale itself sat in a low area between two high foothills of the Broken Mountains. As the city walls came into view, I was impressed despite my hazy condition. Vale looked to be the best-protected city I¡¯d seen in all my years. Its stone walls rose to the height of two men and spanned many miles, surrounding the majority of the city in a semi-circle that backed up toward the mountains. The city sat in a naturally defensible position, and a dozen imposing stone towers stood along the inner walls. Outside the tall wooden gates, a ragtag village had sprung up along the city walls. Small wooden huts housed a poorer population, and most of these shacks seemed to serve as homes and places of business. Perhaps the people from the deserted villages I¡¯d seen in my travels years before had relocated here. As luck would have it, a number of shepherds walked outside the city, herding small flocks of scrawny sheep. Other workers trudged back and forth, hauling warped pieces of wood or brick, while some worked with mud, straw, or animals far enough from the city itself that my approach was partially concealed. I passed a tanner worked a graying animal hide over a crude wooden triangle. In front of the next house, a crude blacksmith hammered a blunt piece of iron. Both halted their work as I walked by, glaring at me without hiding their distrust. As I got closer, I saw that most of the small dusty wooden buildings had been stripped of paint, or perhaps they¡¯d never been painted at all. Sand and dust piled in the corners and on the roofs. Others moved through the streets, dragging along bone-skinny animals or dusty wagons with some semblance of purpose, which was better than some places I¡¯d seen over the past few years. I moved down a small dirt road into the hardscrabble outer village, trying to walk without limping. Every person I saw gave me an extended fearful look. I need to focus, I thought. My head felt light, but my heart still thumped in my chest. Deep inside, I felt the reasons for my coming to Vale flickering. That spark had to keep me going now, or it could be over in a moment. The rest of the world was a desert, its population dwindling every day. So, of course, I had nowhere else to go. Most importantly, I needed to pass on all I¡¯d learned of The Way of the Mark. The culture and craft of magekind thrived by passing along knowledge. However, the true mages had steadily been dying off without replacement for decades. I hadn¡¯t met another mage in how long? Was it years? I couldn¡¯t hope to find anyone of The Way in this city, could I? Vale was the center of everything that opposed my way of life. I felt it again. A mere whisper of hope fluttered inside me ¡ª despite what I knew ¡ª this could be the place. There could be someone here I could train and pass on my knowledge. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. Men, women, and children walked the streets all around me, the latter a ragged bunch of starved feral animals crouching in alleyways or perched on rooftops with desperate, hungry eyes. These were the survivors of this brutal world. Something else burned within me, even more so now that I¡¯d arrived. The Motorized ¡ª these users of steam-powered weapons and machines like those I¡¯d met in the desert ¡ª had been fighting mages of The Way for decades. They persecuted and killed friends of mine like Shaan, mages I considered my only kin. When I first studied The Way as a young man, mages lived and worked in every city and village in the known world. They helped regular people solve everyday problems, advised leaders and governments, and stood for freedom against oppression. So, when I truly looked within myself, I realized I burned with cold, angry revenge. I winced as the pain in my side spiked for a moment, especially as I tried to ignore it. Looking down at myself, the blanket wrapped around my midsection was mostly hidden under my long black coat. I didn¡¯t look wounded, but still, I badly needed a drink to dull the edge of pain. I saw a building bearing a sign on its rough wooden awning showing an image of a cup etched into the wood. I walked toward the building, keeping my eyes on the ground. As I got close, I noticed more leathered lackeys patrolling and watching from the city walls. I¡¯d gotten lucky slipping into the outer city from the south. A few of the leathered thugs looked my way, but I kept my head down, and they moved on. I stepped into the old tavern, moving through a curtain of burlap, which served as a door. Inside, it was dark and cool, and it took my eyes a moment to adjust in the dim light. Half the tables were full, as other men sat nursing mugs of something or other. The low chatter quieted as soon as I stepped inside. A single man stood behind the narrow counter, leaning on it with his head down. I stepped toward him, my walking stick plonking onto the wooden floor, loud in the sudden silence. The bartender looked up and stared. ¡°Can a man get a drink?¡± I grumbled. The man stared at me, his mouth open slightly. I realized that I probably looked menacing with my black hat, knee-length jacket, a blanket wrapped around my midsection, a large pack on my back, and my weapon-like walking stick. I took off my hat, revealing my long, wispy, aged gray hair, half-smiling. ¡°Whatever you got. I ain¡¯t picky,¡± I added. The man finally moved, drawing an unmarked bottle and a wooden cup from under the bar. He poured the drink. I dropped a coin on the narrow counter, picked up the cup, and drank it down in a single gulp. It tasted slightly of whiskey but then came on stronger like moonshine. I flipped a second coin on the counter and asked for another. The bartender poured me a second drink, and I took my cup and walked to an empty table in an alcove in the back wall, sitting down slowly and carefully. My side screamed in pain as I bent over. I grew dizzy for a moment, and my vision darkened at the edges as I sat down. I took a deep, slow breath to regain my focus. Sitting there, I found every eye in the room on me. The bartender stared openly. They know what you are. The voice came into my head with force. I wouldn¡¯t find a mage here. Not in this forsaken place. After all, magic of The Way was outlawed here and had been since its founding. I allowed anger to grow inside me. I had to fight back, and to do that, I needed allies. Sweat beaded on my forehead, ridding my body of valuable moisture. The pain continued to spread through my body. Heat crept into my arms. I gritted my teeth and drank some more. The whiskey-shine tasted smooth at first, with a harsh after taste. Breathe, I told myself. To find any friends in this place, I needed to demonstrate what I was. Right then and there, I decided. I¡¯d been seriously wounded, and if I was going to die, Vale would be the place to do it. I finished the drink, emptying the wooden cup again. A slight buzz began to play in the back of my mind, and the pain dulled slightly. This alcohol worked fast. Carefully, I pulled a simple piece of granite from my pouch and placed it on the table with a ¡°thud.¡± I looked around the room; a couple of men stared at me openly, while others had gone back to their conversations ¡ª after all, I was just a harmless, old man. I raised my hands into the air theatrically, waving them as I¡¯d been taught so many years ago. I drained the rock of its matter, and it winked into nothing. One man jumped to his feet, staring at me, his chair falling to the ground, his mouth wide open. Every eye in the room flicked back to me. I finished the transformation, flicked my wrist, and suddenly my cup overflowed with alcohol, but this time it was the smooth, rich wheat ale I¡¯d learned to conjure years before. I needed to dull the pain as much as possible, so I took the drink in my hand and lifted it to every man in the room. Cheers. They stared at me as I downed the drink in one long gulp. The man who had jumped to his feet, turned and ran from the tavern. He¡¯d be off to alert whatever authorities existed here, and before long, someone would discover the six men I¡¯d left out in the desert. But I was past caring. I couldn¡¯t help the grin that creased my face as the alcohol took effect. Chapter 4: A Flash of Light
Chapter 4: A FLASH OF LIGHT I forced myself to lean back hard against the wall, rough wood digging into my back. My heart still raced from the thrill of using magic, and the whiskey I drank down so fast it buzzed in my veins. I scanned the little bar, noticing the crowd began to shift as murmurs spread around the room like a wind. As intended, my stunt had caught their attention. A group of hard-eyed men sitting nearby exchanged glances. One of their group, a stocky man wearing a mangy beard, slid his chair back and got to his feet. He walked over to me, looking around the room as a smirk danced across his lips. ¡°Thought we¡¯d seen it all, but you might just earn the crown, old man,¡± he said, his voice booming above the murmurs. ¡°You got guts showing off like that. But you must know, mages ain¡¯t welcome here.¡± I met his gaze, a burning anger hot in my belly. ¡°I¡¯m here to change that,¡± I replied, my voice steady as it could be. ¡°And I¡¯m looking to make allies, not enemies.¡± The man¡¯s smirk faltered, replaced by a flicker of interest. ¡°Allies, you say? What makes you think any of us want to associate with a mage?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not here to fight,¡± I said, leaning toward him. ¡°Surely, there are some in this city who remember what true magic once meant. And I aim to remind them.¡± Another man from the group spoke up, his voice dripping with skepticism. Everyone was listening close now. ¡°How do we know you¡¯re not just another washed-up mage looking for a quick drink before vanishing into the desert?¡± he shouted. ¡°We¡¯ve seen your kind before.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not going anywhere,¡± I chuckled, though the pain in my side twisted sharply at the movement. I matched eyes with many in the room. ¡°Not until I¡®ve reminded every last one of you.¡± The bearded man leaned closer, intrigued. ¡°What¡¯s your plan, then?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve seen what happens when mages stand aside,¡± I said, my voice stumbling slightly. ¡°And I¡¯ve lost far too many friends. If you want to live in a world where The Motorized don¡¯t rule everything we do, don''t oppress our people, we need to band together.¡± A tense silence hung in the air, and I felt the weight of their skepticism. But there was something else too ¡ª a hint of curiosity, perhaps held back by fear. But it was there. I leaned back, allowing the moment to linger, my heart pounding in my chest. ¡°Alright then,¡± the bearded man said after a moment¡¯s pause. ¡°You have my attention. We need you to prove your power, show us something. No parlor tricks.¡± I raised an eyebrow and nodded, silently accepting the challenge he¡¯d thrown down in front of the entire room. I reached for another piece of granite from my store of matter, feeling the cool rock in my hands. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. I held it up in front of me, taking a moment to draw every eye to me, feeling the essence of the rock¡¯s simple matter thrumming. I focused carefully on the stone, then with a movement of my other arm I drained it of its matter and it disappeared from view. There was no sound in the room. I flashed both my hands as quick as a blink, and wove the matter into a new form, quickly transforming it into a shimmering and floating orb of light. After the transformation, the orb floated up gently above the table, resting near the ceiling and illuminating the dim tavern with a warm glow. Gasps rippled through the crowd, and I felt the tension ease and shift into a kind of awe. More importantly, the orb would stay there, floating bright in this tavern for weeks, perhaps months, until another mage cast a dissipation spell. As a result, the memory of my vist would live on¡ªmaking people talk, as people did. ¡°Now,¡± I said, my voice commanding yet calm. ¡°Which of you is ready to fight for a world without fear? A world where magic of the old ways can be used to actually help the people of Vale? Keep your eyes open. Very soon you¡¯ll see my signs.¡± It was time for me to move on before that runner came back with an army of Motorized thugs. I stood up, wincing at the pain in my side, grabbed my staff and slung my pack over my shoulders again. Then I shuffled out the thin burlap door. No one moved to stop me.
I visited three other dingy taverns in the outer city, where I received a similar reaction to my demonstrations. In every town and village before this, I¡¯d always found those who remembered The Way quickly ¡ª though they were always few in number and often keeping their allegiance hidden. I had very limited time now, and I started to worry that I wouldn¡¯t find someone willing to risk themselves to help me. On the street outside the fourth tavern, I stepped into an alley out of sight so I could inspect the blanket tied around my midsection. The blood had nearly soaked through. The pain had lessened considerably thanks to the many drinks I¡¯d had now, but I desperately needed treatment. I looked up and searched the streets in front of me. There must be a healer here somewhere. A flash of light caught my eyes. I flicked my head around, seeing nothing irregular. A man on a steam-powered motorcycle buzzed nearby, another man helped an older woman walk by, and she used a walking stick to hold herself up. Then I saw him. Crouched in a narrow alley across the way, a boy stared directly at me. His hands flashed a small piece of mirrored metal, catching my eyes. At first, I thought he was just trying to annoy me. But then, very carefully, he waved me over. I looked around and nobody else seemed to be paying attention, so I shuffled across the street. This could certainly be a trap, but at this point, I was desperate. As I neared the narrow alley, the boy backed deeper into the shadows. I followed him, tucking myself into the shade beneath the wooden eaves of the building covering the alley. He stared up at me from where he crouched, and I stared back. He had a mousy mop of brown hair, and shifting eyes. His head flicked around, and he seemed to be looking out for watchers, making sure we weren¡¯t seen. ¡°Do you have ¡ª ¡± I began to whisper. But the boy leaped up and covered my mouth with his hand. Quiet. I nodded, and he removed his hand from my mouth. He looked back out on the street, and I caught a distinct look of fear in his eyes. This boy was afraid for his life. He wore old, torn clothes, scraps barely hanging on his body, and his hair was matted and uneven. He hadn¡¯t bathed in months and his body was scrawny¡ªhe must have been ravenous. I took a piece of hardened bread from my pack and handed it to him. His eyes flicked to mine, wide as a dog¡¯s and filled with wonder. He took the bread and stuffed it in a hidden pocket, then waved for me to follow him as he took off down the alley. Chapter 5: A Spark of Hope Chapter 5: A SPARK OF HOPE The boy led me down an alley between two buildings made of rough stone brick, their seams filled with mud. The alley ended where a third building stood and splitting the alley into two darker, narrow passages. The boy took the left passage for a dozen feet until it turned out of sight of the outer streets, where he stopped. Worry wrinkled his forehead as he glanced around. While I¡¯d witnessed prejudice and hatred leveled against users of the Way in other places, this boy¡¯s fear suggested a different level of paranoia. If he was part of whatever meager resistance existed here, he could be imprisoned for helping me. Or killed. After a moment¡¯s pause, the boy removed a wooden panel in one of the walls and motioned for me to enter the tunnel. The narrow space had a low ceiling, forcing me to crouch down as I crawled in. Pain flared in my side, and I took a deep breath while stars flashed across my vision. Don¡¯t pass out now, I told myself, feeling the edges of my view darken. I focused on breathing and trying to stay awake. The boy slipped inside the tunnel behind me, replaced the panel, and crouch-walked into the darkness ahead. I couldn¡¯t see him clearly but managed to follow his silhouette ¡ª a shadow moving into the dark. Anywhere else, trusting someone so blindly would have been a genuinely bad idea, but today, I didn¡¯t have the luxury of time. As we walked, my side brushed against the wall, pain igniting in the wound. I groaned involuntarily, stifling the sound as much as I could. I gently shifted my pouch to the other side to avoid rubbing against the injury. After shuffling ahead for several paces, my eyes began to adjust. Through cracks in the walls and floorboards, I saw faint trickles of light filtering into the tunnel, illuminating the path. A few paces ahead, the boy knelt down and lifted a square plank of wood from the dirt floor. He set it aside and stepped down into a dark hole in the ground, gesturing for me to follow. Then his head disappeared. A shiver of nerves ran up my spine as I stepped toward the dark opening, looking down. This was truly a last resort; stepping into an unknown hole and following a total stranger, especially in a place like Vale, was a gamble, but feeling how I did right now, I might be dead in a couple of days anyway. Steeling my nerves, I inhaled, the air heavy with the smells of urine, dirt, and sweat. Shifting painfully, I sat and swung my legs down into the hole with a grunt, blindly searching for a foothold. I found a step set into the dirt wall, placed my foot, and climbed down into the darkness, my heart pounding, the wound throbbing. I looked up and flinched at the sight of a pair of glittering eyes above me. Another boy knelt in the tunnel over my head, holding a plank ready to close off the hole. A lookout, I thought. As the second boy placed the plank over my head, darkness closed in, and I continued descending. Panic rose in my chest, but I swallowed hard, pushing it down. Finally, one of my legs brushed against something below, and I stepped down onto a floor. I heard someone moving in the dark and turned around to face an opening behind me. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. A candle flickered to life, forcing me to squint against the sudden brightness. I found myself in a room with dirt walls, a dirt floor, and a dirt ceiling propped up by rough wooden pillars, and a couple simple crossbeams. In some cities, this would be a cellar, a storage cave carved into the earth to escape the desert heat ¡ª a place for storing bags of rice, beans, grain, or whatever else could be preserved for the future. In other places, it might serve as a holding cell, a prison, or worse. The boy stood before me, his curious eyes shining in his dirty face. He looked considerably less anxious now. In the back corner, a large man stood wearing a black hat and a leather vest, staring at me with a knife held ominously in his hand. Was there a hint of a smile on his lips? Perhaps he relished the idea of using that knife. At a desk in the middle of the room sat another man, hands clasped thoughtfully, his beard a little more trim and glasses framed his face. He wore a buttoned, collared shirt of a higher quality when compared to everyone else I¡¯d seen here. This man looked pensive but unsure as he regarded me. Sparse wooden furniture filled the earthen room ¡ª a desk, a bed, a table, and several crude chairs. Clearly, these items had been brought down in pieces and assembled here, as they were too large to fit through the hole or narrow crawlspace above. I noticed a wooden plank covering a door-sized exit in the back wall behind the desk. A potential escape route? A storage room? Another tunnel? If so, where did it lead? The man sitting at the desk cleared his throat and looked me in the eyes. ¡°Who are you?¡± he grumbled. ¡°We heard there¡¯s a mage in town showing off. Is that you?¡± I studied the bearded man and then glanced at the one with the knife. This could go any number of ways, and though I had been in similar situations many times before, these kinds of confrontations rarely ended well. Though I could barely keep my eyes open now, the pain flaring, I slid a piece of simple rock from my pockets into each hand, just in case. ¡°And if I am him, what then?¡± I asked carefully. ¡°Listen, old man, I¡¯m not your papa,¡± the man at the desk replied, looking down at his hands. ¡°I didn¡¯t make you come down here, and I certainly wouldn¡¯t want to be you if you are that mage. Not in Vale, of all places. That little trick you pulled at The Tall Drink could get you killed. I¡¯ve seen a dozen mages hung at the gates for much less. Now, from what we hear, the whole city is out hunting for you, but I found you first. So, assuming you are him, we need to talk.¡± ¡°Well then, I am he,¡± I replied, summoning as much bravado as I could. ¡°Who are you, and what do you want with a mage of the old ways?¡± ¡°I¡¯m Dirk, and I¡¯m in need of a favor,¡± he replied. ¡°As far as Vale is concerned, I¡¯m a tailor working in my simple shop here in the city. But I collaborate with others who wish to see the old ways, as you say, The Way of the Mark, return to its former place.¡± I nodded as a wash of relief hit me. The resistance. ¡°Why don¡¯t we trade a favor for a favor?¡± I suggested, knowing that barter systems likely worked the same here as everywhere else. Dirk nodded. ¡°My son¡­¡± He paused, glaring at me with searching eyes. Taking a deep breath, he continued, ¡°My son is a prisoner somewhere in Vale. I need your help to get him back.¡± I considered this opening. This was more than a simple favor to start with, Dirk must be desperate. These men were certainly part of some resistance, and rescuing his son was not only illegal, but probably impossible for most. ¡°Why is he in prison in the first place?¡± I asked. ¡°Same reason you might be dead in an hour and hanging from the walls,¡± Dirk replied, causing my breath to catch. Could it be? ¡°He¡¯s a mage?¡± I asked, and Dirk nodded. ¡°Is he still alive?¡± ¡°I believe he is alive,¡± Dirk replied. ¡°They took him a week ago because he was seeking to learn The Way. After his own master was killed some months ago, my son was the only one left in Vale.¡± My initial spark of hope faded. He wasn¡¯t likely to be alive. ¡°Can you help?¡± Dirk asked again, and now I could see the desperation in his voice, just a bit. ¡°Perhaps,¡± I said, staggering slightly. ¡°Are you alright, mage?¡± I pulled back my duster, noticing the large man with the knife tense up, raising his weapon. ¡°Peace, man. I just want you to see something,¡± I said, gesturing to the blood-soaked blanket wrapped around my midsection. ¡°You see that I am injured.¡± Dirk¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°You¡¯re the first new mage we¡¯ve seen in many years,¡± Dirk sputtered, standing up and looking to the other man. ¡°Summon the healer.¡± The man with the knife nodded and darted through the exit in the back of the room. Meanwhile, the boy guided me to the bed to lie down. I closed my eyes and exhaustion moved through me immediately. Moments before I passed out completely, I heard a woman¡¯s voice in the small room. By then, everything had gone dark. Chapter 6: Calm Before the Storm
Chapter 6. CALM BEFORE THE STORM Upon waking, my head throbbed with a hammering pain and my body felt hot, sweaty. I attempted to sit up too quickly, groaning as the pain forced me back down. Cracking my eyes open, I found myself lying in the same earthen room, on the same wooden bed I¡¯d seen before, but it was darker now. A low candle light illuminated the space, but shadows still prevailed. I closed my eyes again, already feeling strained at the simple effort of looking around. ¡°Quiet now,¡± someone murmured close to my ear. I wanted to look up but kept my eyes tightly shut, trying to ward off the pain. A cool hand pressed against my forehead. ¡°Open your mouth, mage,¡± the gentle voice urged. I opened my mouth, and someone placed a bitter leaf on my tongue. Chewing it slowly, I swallowed it despite every instinct screaming at me to spit it out. I heard whispering in the room. As someone placed a cool damp cloth on my forehead, there were brief flashes of light behind my eyelids. The shock of the cold pushed my mind back into unconsciousness. My last thought before I passed out was that someone must have spent a fortune to wet that washcloth.
When I woke again, the pain had lessened considerably. Although I still felt warm, I lay buried beneath a mound of blankets and the fever now felt distant. Carefully, I opened my eyes. The ceiling was a dozen feet above me, a dark slab of rock. Looking around me this time, I realized this cave was much larger than the tiny earthen hole I¡¯d been in before. Next to the bed, I saw healer¡¯s supplies covering a table: a bowl of mashed leaves, an open leather bag containing a small selection of herbs and roots, a burning candle, strips of cloth, and a small stained glass jar filled with a brownish ointment. I gingerly touched my side and found the wound well bandaged. It felt warm and incredibly tender to the touch, but the pain was now only a dull ache. They must have given me something to numb the pain. The rest of the room looked spare, adorned with simple wooden furniture, including several other beds, another table, and a few chairs. On the back wall, a deep fire pit was built into the rock, with a low fire burning in it and a dark, sooty cauldron suspended above it. This space sat underground, somewhere beneath Vale. Surely my being moved here had represented a risk to those who cared for me ¡ª I¡¯d have to be careful and return their hospitality. The room was empty. Slowly, I moved up, dropping my legs over the side of the bed and sitting. My head swam briefly as I did. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. It took me a moment to catch my breath, as I waited for my swimming eyes to clear. I still wore my own shirt and pants, but my hat, duster, pack, and pouches were all gone. Scanning the room, I found the hat and jacket hanging from a hook in the corner, my pack sitting on the earthen floor. I needed to check its contents ¡ª make sure it still held the remaining gold, the single diamond, and the one thing I always kept close: a book of spells and history I¡¯d carried across the desert for thousands of miles and many decades. I valued this book over anything else, due to the precious spells and information about The Way I¡¯d compiled over the course of my life and training. Before I could stand, the door swung open, and a tall woman with chestnut hair moved smoothly into the room. She wore a long brown dress, drab in color, but somehow still radiant. When she saw me sitting up, a smile lit her face. She looked somewhat like a woman I¡¯d once known, though perhaps I was imagining the resemblance. Memory can be less reliable over time. ¡°You¡¯re awake, old man,¡± she stated in a low voice I recognized. ¡°You¡¯re the healer?¡± I asked, taking no offense at the label. People didn¡¯t very live long in these lands anymore, and I¡¯d been called much worse. ¡°I¡¯m Lissa,¡± she said, coming to my bedside and feeling my forehead with her hand. ¡°They call me a healer as there¡¯s no one else to bear that title. Feeling better?¡± ¡°Somewhat,¡± I replied. ¡°Thank you for binding my injury.¡± ¡°Your fever broke, but the wound in your side is quite deep,¡± she said. She stepped toward the cauldron and began spooning something into a bowl. ¡°It won¡¯t heal quickly; you¡¯ll need weeks of bedrest for the injury to truly recover.¡± ¡°It feels much better than it did. Thank you,¡± I said. She looked at me, her face suddenly serious. ¡°I gave you some powerful pain reliever, a rare herb found on the upper reaches of this mountain range. It won¡¯t wear off for at least a day. Very strong. You may feel better, but the wound isn¡¯t healed yet. Do you understand?¡± Nodding, I stood up slowly, feeling light-headed briefly. She gestured to a chair next to the bed. ¡°Again, thank you Lissa,¡± I said, sitting down. ¡°You¡¯re welcome. Do you have a name?¡± ¡°You can just call me Mage,¡± I replied, breathing deep and slow, moving carefully so I wouldn¡¯t bump the wound. ¡°Mage, then,¡± she said, shrugging at the odd name. ¡°You needn¡¯t worry. You¡¯re safe for now, but you should eat some of this stew to regain your strength.¡± ¡°This must have cost you half a year¡¯s wages,¡± I said, taking the bowl and spoon. The stew contained several small chunks of meat, a few spoons of broth, crushed grasses, and thin vegetables. Lissa glanced back at the cauldron and replaced the lid on the remaining soup. ¡°Dirk said you were important. That you could help us in our efforts here.¡± She looked at me skeptically, as if she dared not hope it was true. I paused before replying. ¡°I will help you if I can,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ve been searching the deserts for years, seeking out another mage, any other mage, or some hint of the Way of the Mark, all without success. Strangely, my searching led me here.¡± ¡°There aren¡¯t many other places left to go, I assume,¡± Lissa said. ¡°It¡¯s true, Lissa. I¡¯ve searched most places I knew to look,¡± I said with a nod. ¡°Where did you learn your healing?¡± I asked, taking a small bite of the stew. ¡°I learned some healing from my own grandmother, who had some training from mages of the old ways¡ªof your ways, I suspect,¡± she smiled gently. ¡°But that was many years ago, I was but a girl when I learned.¡± ¡°Well, you¡¯re a credit to your grandma¡¯m,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m sure I¡¯d be dead now without your intervention. My things?¡± ¡°By the door,¡± Lissa replied. I nodded and continued to eat. ¡°Of course, we searched them just to be sure,¡± Lissa added, a little sheepish. ¡°That manuscript¡­ is it written in a different tongue?¡± I looked up at her. ¡°Yes, you could say that. I wrote the entire thing in an ancient cipher. It is unreadable without a key phrase and knowledge of how the cipher works.¡± ¡°Smart,¡± She nodded with a gleam in her eyes. ¡°Well, I¡¯ll let you eat in peace. I¡¯ll be back then.¡± Lissa lifted the cauldron and, with one last glance at me, left the room taking the stew with her. I assumed she would share the rest with others in her care. I finished eating the rest of my stew in silence. Chapter 7: The Mark Chapter 7. THE MARK After finishing off the bowl of stew, I stood up and walked to the corner of the room. I donned my hat and long black coat, and checked my pockets, finding everything where it had been. I took a few steps around the room, relieved to find the pain in my side had lessened, especially now with food in my stomach. Taking a deep breath, I scanned the room for something to drink but found nothing. Drawing my pack from the floor, I withdrew my cup and a small rock. I performed my simple granite-to-water spell, and drank it down. As I finished the water, Dirk stepped into the room. ¡°I¡¯m glad to see you awake,¡± he said, his face grim as he drew a chair toward me. I sat down on the bed. ¡°Dirk, thank you for helping me,¡± I grunted, putting my cup away into my pack, and smiling carefully. ¡°I believe I owe you a favor.¡± He contemplated this comment, hope flickering briefly in his eyes before fading, his expression hardening. ¡°I¡¯m not sure what can be done,¡± Dirk said. ¡°Vale is no longer a place for your kind, and it¡¯s certainly not a place for an aging, wounded mage.¡± I nodded as he continued. ¡°Mage, if I may call you that, they¡¯re out looking for you. They¡¯re ransacking the entire city, inside and out. We¡¯ve already lost some of our tunnels and hiding places. No one has come to Vale and performed magic in the city as brazenly as you did¡ªnot in decades,¡± Dirk sighed. ¡°The motorized are angry, turning over every bed, basement, and hidden door. Eventually, they¡¯ll find this place.¡± I blinked at him. This was to be expected. ¡°So we need to move quickly, then, yes?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Dirk said. ¡°The men you attacked out in the desert ¡ª one of them didn¡¯t make it. A thug named Marken. Now, Marken was a bad man, but no one in Vale kills Uof¡¯s men.¡± ¡°Tell me about Uof. I¡¯ve heard the stories ¡ª but they can¡¯t all be true.¡± Dirk nodded and glanced around, ensuring no one was listening, seemingly out of habit. ¡°Uof controls the city, the thugs, the Motorized, the markets, how and when people get fed ¡ª everything.¡± ¡°And his men took your son, does that place any suspicion on you?¡± I asked. ¡°Surely, they must be watching you.¡± ¡°Not really, at least not yet,¡± Dirk replied, looking down. ¡°Well, perhaps some. I¡¯ve had to publicly disavow him to keep my tailor¡¯s shop open. I¡¯ve been keeping my head down, going out much less.¡± ¡°So, where is your son now?¡± Dirk shook his head. ¡°Bend was taken eight days ago, and I followed his captors into the city. Bend is the last among us who tried to follow The Way of the Mark. He has the spark and was the only one who could make the spells work. That¡¯s why they took him.¡± Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. ¡°Bend? How old was ¡ª I mean, how old is he?¡± ¡°Eighteen.¡± From what little I¡¯d seen in this city, the kid was likely dead already. ¡°Have you seen him since?¡± I asked. Dirk shook his head, leaning back in the chair. ¡°I can show you where they took him ¡ª at first.¡± I took a deep breath, contemplating Dirk. He wore a close-cropped tuft of light blond hair, graying at the temples, and looked at me with a craggy, sun-worn face. His clothes were those of a poor tailor, yet his hands showed signs of hard labor every day of his life. Dirk must have had a second job, or he spent most of his free time building tunnels and shelters under the city for the whatever resistance remained in Vale. ¡°Dirk, thank you for your help,¡± I said, coughing lightly. ¡°In coming here, I sought to find someone of the Way. That was my sole purpose ¡ª as I need to pass on what I¡¯ve learned over many decades. If your son is still alive, I will do everything I can find him.¡± ¡°Praise the Creator,¡± Dirk whispered with a small shudder, and it was then I could see the fear in him. I clasped his shoulder and smiled as warmly as I could. ¡°I can¡¯t guarantee what has happened to him, but I will find him.¡± ¡°Thank you,¡± Dirk stammered. ¡°You know, there are others here who seek to follow the Way and may have the gift, but none have been branded with the mark like Bend. There is no one left to train them. I can¡¯t make it work ¡ª I don¡¯t have the gift.¡± ¡°Only a four or five in a hundred people have the spark, Dirk.¡± ¡°Do you have it?¡± he asked me carefully, looking up. ¡°The Mark? Lissa says you wear it, but other than my son and his mentor, who has been dead now for years, I haven¡¯t seen it on anyone else.¡± I nodded slowly, and slightly embarrassed, I opened the buttons on my shirt. The tattoo over my heart consisted of the swirling crest of The Way of the Mark in blue-black ink. The crest was a simple teardrop-shaped shield with four unique symbols in the four quadrants of the shield itself. Above the shield, a phrase that read in the ancient tongue ¡°Of the Mark,¡± and down the sides, swirling vines. This part of the Mark was the same for every tattoo I¡¯d seen on a mage. Each mage of the Way earned four symbols inside their shield, based on their talents and chosen areas of study. In my early years training with The Way, the tattoos represented a private matter for mages, and they only showed them to close, trusted friends. After so many years of training though, some mages grew proud of their areas of study, so they showed them off to other mages and outsiders alike, training shirtless, wearing their tattoos like badges of honor. However, as the Motorized spread across the land and began to persecute every mage they found, the tattoos became a way of tracking down and proving someone had trained in The Way. In fact, the marks had became a curse. Inscribed inside the shield on my chest, was the symbol of a book, then a single water drop, a sword, which was actually quite rare, and a map bearing a series of lines. Dirk¡¯s eyes went wide with wonder. ¡°A sword?¡± he said with a question. ¡°I thought the Way was primarily a defensive path.¡± ¡°Some of us, though rare in the ranks of The Way, trained specifically in the arts of war,¡± I replied, though Dirk didn¡¯t know that this was my least sure area of study ¡ª I hadn¡¯t used the war spells very often throughout my years of travel. One might say I was rusty as there had been almost no mages trained in this emphasis when I first began to study. ¡°It¡¯s not a common mark. I¡¯ve only met two others in all my many years with the sword. Both of them are long since dead.¡± ¡°And the map?¡± he asked. ¡°Geography and mapmaking,¡± I said. This was my standard answer to throw off curiosity. But in actuality, I¡¯d earned this symbol for geography, mapmaking, and military strategy and battle tactics. ¡°What symbols did your son earn?¡± I asked, buttoning up my shirt. ¡°He only had one symbol in his shield,¡± Dirk said, a hint of pride in his words. ¡°He hadn¡¯t earned any others yet. It was the symbol of three logs and fire, signifying ¡®survival.¡¯ The last mage who came through Vale many years ago trained him in various desert and mountain survival spells. At least that¡¯s what Bend told me.¡± I hope Bend is using those skills now, I thought. Dirk¡¯s face darkened as he thought about his son. He couldn¡¯t afford to hope, but when he looked at me again, there was a glimmer in his eyes. He nodded. ¡°Come, I will show you what we have to work with. Also, the others would like to meet you.¡± I stood up and followed Dirk to the door. Chapter 8: A Plan of Attack Chapter 8. A PLAN OF ATTACK When I first entered their tunnels, it was in the outer city, outside the walls of Vale. While I slept through the fever, they¡¯d somehow moved me inside the city walls. This morning, Dirk and I hiked through the dark for hours, winding through a new series of twisting tunnels, alley ways, and secret passages leading deeper into the city. The route was circuitous, and now we stood at the window of his small tailor¡¯s shop. The store sat on a rise near the southernmost city walls, giving us a good vantage looking to the north from which we could see most of the city of Vale. So, this was the center of steam-powered culture ¡ªhome of the Motorized. I shivered without meaning to do so. After all these years of hearing about this place, I recalled my old master telling me the legend of Weer. A mage of our order. Somehow, Weer managed to create the first hybrid steam-powered tool utilizing a crude steam engine and a series of obscure spells, unknown to this day by all outside of Vale. Curse the day. This city was where it all started?¡ª?and even though Weer trained as a mage himself, it spelled the beginning of the end for my order. Tears sprang to my eyes involuntarily, as I thought of many friends and mages now gone, but I quickly wiped them away. Dirk noticed but said nothing. I watched as a cart piled full of hay bales steamed down a nearby street, its engine pumping vigorously as the driver steered it around a corner. Seemed an innocent enough invention. After he created the first hybrid tool, apparently Weer fashioned more steam-powered tools, and eventually weapons, selling them all across the known world. This made him ridiculously wealthy, and helped him to amass influence and power. It also set him at odds with mages of The Way because their help was needed far less, they suspected he¡¯d done something that twisted the spells of The Way, and also Weer¡¯s own men started to persecute mages directly. I was still a child when wars first broke out between mages of The Way and the generals of the steam-powered armies of Vale and its allies. Wars raged on for decades while I grew up, then trained in the magical arts. Most of the armies had been disbanded by now, with no more magi opposition left to fight. To my right, out East toward the plains, I saw the inside of the imposing city walls, where the entrance to the city itself stood. The ragtag village outside the city walls wasn¡¯t even visible from here. To my left, looking westward up into the foothills, houses, shops, taverns, and inns blanketed the valley. Unlike the crude outer city, these buildings had been constructed of stone and brick, decorated with colored clays, paints, elaborate tapestries, and well-drawn signs. Cobbled stone streets ran throughout the inner city, important for the steam-powered wagons, carts, and cycles that even now I could hear sputtering throughout the city. At the highest, westernmost point in the city, a hulking keep stood, sprawling across the top of the valley, spouting steady bursts of black steam into the sky. It stood over the city like a bulky sentry, impossible to miss. ¡°What is that castle?¡± I asked, pointing up to the keep. ¡°The home of Lord Uof, the man who runs this city,¡± Dirk said, with a deep, shuddering breath. ¡°They call it The Keep of Uof. Around ten years ago, Uof proclaimed himself the son and heir of Weer, taking over leadership of the city. He showed up often for a while, then he disappeared. Uof hasn¡¯t been seen in public in years.¡± Son of Weer. Now, as I stood in Weer¡¯s city, I remembered the story about the first hybrid tool. It was a repeating shovel for the miners in these very mountains. For years I¡¯d pondered how I would create a hybrid tool like this with the spells I knew. Mages everywhere had tried to replicate that first spell, and failed. Clearly, Weer had been a mage of some learning and study to create such a complicated tool that mages for a generation had been stumped. Did Weer realize that his inventions would signal the end of The Way of the Mark? If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. I moved my eyes away from Uof¡¯s Keep and around the city. I saw other buildings I recognized: an alchemist¡¯s shops, a blacksmith¡¯s barn, and two large open-air markets. ¡°I followed my son into the inner city after he was arrested,¡± Dirk said, pointing. ¡°They took him to one of the prisons, there.¡± Dirk pointed to a tall, block-like building on the north side of the city, sitting along the northern wall. Looking around the inner city, I saw several other similar buildings. Four blocky structures formed a diamond shape in the city¡¯s layout?¡ª?one large stood near the entrance to the city on the inner wall itself to the East. Another structure stood on the southern reaches of the wall near Dirk¡¯s shop, and the final building had been erected high up to the West, just below Uof¡¯s Keep. ¡°Is he still in there?¡± I asked, studying the city. ¡°There¡¯s no way to know for sure, but we never saw him moved,¡± Dirk said with a hard swallow. ¡°We¡¯ve watched it day and night, in shifts, and we¡¯ve seen nothing in the eight days since.¡± I thought about the problem. Getting into the city hadn¡¯t proven difficult with Dirk¡¯s help, but I couldn¡¯t walk around inside Vale without attracting the wrong kind of attention. The Motorized knew I was here, but I had an edge: they thought I was still in the outer city, outside the city walls. For now. Also, finding Bend, the young mage, was my sole priority now. I owed Dirk a favor, but also because his son was a genuine follower of The Way of the Mark?¡ª?and perhaps like me¡ªone of the last alive. I needed to get to that prison as soon as possible. Before they moved him, or worse. ¡°We need to find out if your son is still in the prison,¡± I said, thinking through logistics. ¡°Surprise may still be on our side, as they may not expect me to be in the city yet.¡± ¡°You¡¯re right, the sooner we can find out, the better. But how?¡± Dirk replied. ¡°We could try to talk to the guards, but from what I¡¯ve seen so far, they¡¯re not likely to be cooperative.¡± ¡°We¡¯ve had no luck getting any information out of anyone working in the prison so far,¡± Dirk said in response. ¡°Failing that then, we need to get into that prison. And soon.¡± ¡°Mage, get in there?¡± Dirk said, an incredulous look on his face. ¡°Impossible. Also, you¡¯re still badly hurt!¡± I nodded, recalling Lissa¡¯s comment that I needed rest. Looking at the blocky prison building, which was itself surrounded by a stone wall, there was no easy approach. I could try to send some kind of spy beacon into the building, but it was sure to be spotted before we could get too far. ¡°Maybe I can enter the prison without being seen, at least not right away,¡± I responded, starting to formulate a plan, and calculate what kind of matter and spells I would need to perform to pull it off. I opened my pack, going through my remaining stores. I drew my small leather notebook into my hands and opened it. Sprawling script covered every page, and I flipped the pages until I found the ritualistic spell I wanted. Dirk¡¯s looked at the page, perplexed at the flowing script he saw. ¡°The rituals for every spell I¡¯ve learned or created,¡± I said. He nodded, his eyes wide as he studied pages of dense handwriting. I reread the spell I wanted and counted up my stores of rare matter. I had a couple of tiny pieces of gold left, the single diamond, a half-a-dozen pieces of quartz, a chunk of ivory, two chunks of topaz, a gold bracelet, and several pieces of steel and iron I¡¯d taken from the thugs outside the city. This wasn¡¯t much to work with, considering all that I might have to do just to get into the prison?¡ª?I needed to get creative. I looked over at Dirk, meeting his eyes. ¡°I¡¯m going to need some supplies, any other stores of matter you might have,¡± I said. Matter of almost any kind was useful to a mage, but the rarer the matter, the stronger it would be for spell use. This was one of the key tenets of The Way. Gold and rare gemstones were the most practical and powerful of all matter for the spells of the Way?¡ª?though, of course, they were also the hardest to find. ¡°Rocks, gemstones, or rare matter of any kind. Can you help?¡± I asked. ¡°My son had a small collection that he used,¡± he said. ¡°Of course we kept them just in case he returned. I¡¯ll send someone to retrieve them.¡± ¡°I will leave for the prison tomorrow morning before sunrise,¡± I said. ¡°That is likely to be the best time to surprise whoever is manning the prison. Is there anything else you need my help with before I leave?¡± Dirk looked down at his hands. ¡°What is it?¡± I asked. ¡°We have the same problem everyone everywhere has,¡± he said, looking up at me, meeting my eyes. ¡°Our people are suffering, Mage.¡± ¡°Water?¡± ¡°We dug wells underground to supply the outer city resistance and those of the Way, but most of our wells have gone dry in recent months,¡± he said. ¡°We have one deep well left that still draws water on most days and we share that water with those that are poorest in the city. But no one has enough. Uof keeps the water to himself.¡± ¡°I understand,¡± I replied. ¡°Get me some large rocks and as many jugs and basins as you can find. Tonight, I will do what I can to replenish your water stores before I leave. That will have to do until I get back.¡± We both left the next thought unspoken: If I lived through the attempt. I coughed, the pain in my side throbbing lightly. ¡°Get me Bend¡¯s matter as soon as you can and anything else you can find.¡± Chapter 9: Mage Beacon Chapter 9. MAGE BEACON Gray light filtered gently into the sky, though Vale still sat deep in the shadows of the mountain. Torches and lanterns stood around the city, lighting it up more than any city I¡¯d ever seen. I shuddered involuntarily. I couldn¡¯t quite believe I was standing here. For so many years, I¡¯d thought of this place as the center of persecution for my kind?¡ª?they¡¯d murdered or imprisoned so many of my friends over decades. I¡¯d come to think of Vale as evil. But real people lived here, good people trying to build their businesses and feed their families. Despite what it represented, Vale possessed a peculiar beauty, I thought, before turning back to Dirk. ¡°If I don¡¯t come back by evening, you should assume I¡¯m dead and go about your business,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ll do my best to try to find Bend and get him out if he¡¯s still alive. Keep yourselves hidden and safe until nightfall. Understand?¡± Dirk nodded, his face somber. When the door of the shop closed behind me, I took up my walking stick and put on my long, black duster, which was now heavy. I¡¯d stored as many pieces of rare matter as I could fit in a variety of small, hidden pockets of this coat. I took a few steps and felt the wound in my side. The pain felt dull enough that I thought I could get into the prison and determine whether Bend was alive. But after that? We would see what happened. Standing in an alcove out of sight of the main road, I placed a single piece of ivory on the ground before me. Ivory required a more complex draining spell, so I took my time weaving it. If I made a mistake weaving a complex spell such as this one, I risked losing the ivory¡¯s matter entirely and letting it dissipate into nothing. Gold was much more stable, but I didn¡¯t have much of that left. The small chunk of white stone vanished before me. The hum of its matter hovered in the air, threatening to dissipate. I only had a few moments to enact the spell, which was why mages always practiced hard to complete their spells fast. I looked around once again to be sure no one watched. Then, I swept my hands over my body weaving a complex spell around myself that would render me invisible to the eye for about an hour. Unless that is, someone else had died in the last few years since I¡¯d shared this particular spell?¡ª?then perhaps it would last longer. There was a reason for this: In the same way that rare matter made a spell of The Way more powerful, the fewer mages that knew a particular spell the more powerful it would be when cast. When I was a young mage first learning, most of the beginner spells were widely known by many in The Way, and therefore quite weak. So much so that some of these became throw-away spells: widely known but rarely used. Good for learning, and not much else. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Finishing the spell with a sweep of my arms, it locked into place over me. I looked down at my legs and arms, and they were gone. Even my walking stick had disappeared. I checked the window of the shop and saw nothing in reflection. Certainly, there were few who knew this spell any longer. While this fact broke my heart even more, I appreciated the added power of the spell in this moment, standing on the street in Vale. I stepped out of the alcove and began running down the street toward the prison on the other side of the city. I could¡¯ve created a sound-defeating spell to mask the passing ¡°slap¡± of my footsteps on cobblestones, but I didn¡¯t want to waste the matter or the time. So I ran on the balls of my feet, trying to minimize the sound as best I could. But I wasn¡¯t twenty years old anymore. Some shopkeepers looked up at the slap of my footsteps on the stones, confusion playing over their faces. The first part of my journey was downhill toward the main thoroughfare through the center of the city. As I ran, I saw motorized thugs patrolling with steam-powered rifles and pistols, or blunt-nosed crossbows, each weapon different from the one before?¡ª?the uniqueness of each weapon making me think the motorized tools were also somehow connected to the elements of The Way. We¡¯d speculated about this before, but never learned the true connection. As I spotted these thugs, I made sure to give them a wide berth and avoid any confrontations. The wound in my side started to burn hot after a few minutes. It hurt so much I forgot about trying to run quietly, and I just ran toward my destination. Confused looks played across the faces of the few people I passed. It was still early, so there weren¡¯t many people out. I reached the midway point with no trouble, stopping on the wide road running directly up to Uof¡¯s Keep, plunging all the way through the heart of the city. I looked left to Uof¡¯s imposing Keep above me, and knew that if this continued, I would have to make my way there eventually. I turned to face the prison structure sitting directly in front of me, another mile or so ahead. From here to the prison along the Northern slopes, the run would be uphill. Now I moved more slowly, keeping the prison building before me as sweat fell from my long graying hair into my eyes. I hated wasting moisture, knowing it would evaporate well before it hit the ground. But I had to keep moving. Suddenly, something in front of me caught my eye. A strange red light flickered on a street ahead of me, and then brightly flared to life. I continued to run, and noticed that the closer I came to it, the brighter it grew. My nerves spiked. Not now!I thought. I¡¯d seen one of these beacon lights once before. What looked like an innocent lantern carried on the head of a staff, was something else entirely. The bright red-amber glow came from a glass orb, and suddenly I recognized it?¡ª?I should have known what this was and expected to see them here. This was a magical beacon light, sitting atop a staff about a block ahead of me. Years before, I¡¯d faced down a well-known motorized general leading an army outside of a village hundreds of miles from Vale. The general owned a detector of magic?¡ª?a device he called a ¡°Mage Beacon¡±?¡ª?a mysteriously-powered orb that lit up when it detected spell use in its vicinity. The general mounted that particular beacon on his own wagon, and it had been set into a large casing, much different from the one on the street before me now. Our mages had defeated the general who died in battle, then imprisoned his army and destroyed the beacon, and I¡¯d naively hoped the technology had died with him. It obviously hadn¡¯t. Standing before me now, as I ran toward him, a soldier of Vale held a staff in his right hand with a Mage Beacon on top of the staff. This orb, though it was carried by a single man, operated on the same principle as the general¡¯s beacon?¡ª?with every step I took toward the solider, the beacon¡¯s light brightened more?¡ª?keying off of my invisibility spell. The soldier¡¯s head flicked up, looking at the light. He¡¯d just noticed the gleaming from his staff, and his face looked bewildered. Knowing the scarcity of mages in Vale or anywhere within a couple day¡¯s walk, I guessed that he¡¯d rarely if ever seen the light he held brighten up like this. I hoped his moment of surprise would help me now. Chapter 10: The Prison Chapter 10. THE PRISON I ran faster closing the distance to the man holding the mage beacon. Thankfully, there weren¡¯t many others around to see what was about to happen. Hearing my footsteps, the man spun toward me but saw nothing. Panic flickered across his face, his eyes darting up to the beacon light, now burning bright like a flaming torch. It almost wasn¡¯t fair. Leaping up, I kicked the man in the stomach, doubling him over. Before he could recover, I drove my walking stick into his lowered head, crumpling him to the ground. The beacon fell, its housing smashing against the cobblestones, glass cracking with a sharp shatter. I followed up driving a final blow into the beacon, reducing its inner contraption to shards and splinters. I desperately wanted to study the device, but that wasn¡¯t remotely possible out here on the street, especially with so many eyes nearby. I needed to keep moving. The clamor of my attack alerted others. I turned to see soldiers in Vale¡¯s red uniforms charging toward in my direction, along with Motorized thugs in rough, unkempt leather. I had to assume they all knew how to deal with mages?¡ª?even invisible ones. After all, this was Vale, the place where mage exterminations began. I had little time to think. So, I spun toward the prison and ran like a demon. I dodged in and out of narrow streets and twisting alleys, trying to make my path chaotic and unpredictable. My gaze darted around constantly, searching for other mage beacons. Sweat poured down my face and back, my breathing growing more ragged. I glanced down repeatedly to confirm my invisibility spell was still holding?¡ª?so far, so good. After several frantic minutes, I slowed to a walk to catch my breath. The broken beacon was far behind me, but I knew invisibility might not save me if there were others up ahead. I had to assume the worst, which meant, there were surely other mage beacons around. Above me, toward the north, loomed the prison. The stout, four-story castle dominated the skyline now as I drew closer, casting long shadows over the evening streets. Beyond its northern wall stretched a sprawling collection of makeshift houses and hovels, clinging like barnacles to the valley¡¯s mountain slopes, just outside the city. By my estimate, I had about ten minutes left to reach the prison?¡ª?just by walking normally?¡ª?though it ended up taking fifteen. I avoided more soldiers, thugs, and the telltale glow of mage beacons. The closer I got, I saw the prison itself was no grand structure. It stood two stories tall, a blocky fortress surrounded by head-high stone walls. Rumors, passed along by Dirk, spoke of deep dungeons carved into caverns below ground, featuring a variety of prison cells, rooms, and labyrinthine corridors. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. A tall wooden gate stood open at the front, two guards loitering casually nearby, cradling crossbow-rifle-like steam contraptions. At this moment, the gate stood ajar, soldiers walking in and out somewhat casually as though changing shifts. I grimaced. The wound in my side throbbed again painfully, feeling damp and hot. With blood? Or sweat? It was hard to say. Either way, I already felt tired, and my time was running short. I probably needed some more thorough healing, and some rest. Scanning the battlements, I spotted two thugs pacing the bulwarks atop the prison. Climbing the wall was out of the question though due to a lack of handholds anywhere I could see. My best option was simply to walk through the front gate. I took a deep breath, holding it for a beat as I timed my entrance into the front gates. The two guards had turned toward each other, muttering and chuckling as they ogled a woman passing by. They ambled closer together, grinning like idiots. I stepped forward. It was too late to turn back now. With the barest gust of wind signaling my passing, I slipped between them. My breath caught in my throat. If they noticed anything, I could only hope they chalked it up to the breeze. Once inside the gates, I found myself in the prison¡¯s outer grounds. Open-air alleys stretched between the keep itself and the surrounding walls. The castle loomed directly ahead. I glanced left and right?¡ª?the alleys were clear of men, but there was no obvious entrance to the prison building. Taking a chance, I moved to the left. ¡°Be on your guard!¡± someone shouted. ¡°Mage present!¡± I froze. That¡¯s when I saw it: a beacon light, glowing like a torch just inside the castle grounds. I¡¯d been so focused on the guards, I hadn¡¯t seen it. I cursed myself for the oversight. Reaching into my pouch, I grabbed a small granite rock and hurled it at the Mage Beacon. It shattered with a satisfying crash, glass raining down. Before the guards could react, I sprinted down the left alley, desperate to find a way inside. The path led me to a stable, where a single horse stood chewing at a pile of hay. In the back of the stable, I found a small entrance leading to an equipment room?¡ª?mercifully empty. I went through the door, closed it behind me, and bound the door quickly with a wall of air. The door from the stables, led into a kitchen. A lone cook stood whistling to himself as he chopped some vegetable of some sort, utterly oblivious. I slipped past him and out into what appeared to be a kind of dining hall. Thankfully, the invisibility spell still held. Dozens of guards were scattering around the room, their half-eaten meals abandoned as they scrambled toward the courtyard beyond. I stood motionless, barely breathing, as the last of them ducked through a door on the far side. This was going to turn bad in a moment, if I bumped into one of these soldiers. The room now empty, I moved quickly for another door. This door led to a foyer at the front of the keep. Tapestries hung from the walls, and decorative suits of armor stood in staged poses. On the opposite side, a stone staircase wound upward. I ran for it, seeking a place to catch my breath. I had barely started up the first step when a soldier appeared coming down, leaping down steps with a scowl on his face. He didn¡¯t see me soon enough. We collided, my breath exploding from my lungs as I stumbled to the side. The soldier staggered, his hand darting for a hand railing to keep himself from falling to the ground. ¡°What was that?!¡± he barked, spinning in place, eyes wild as he drew his sword. Heart pounding, I retreated into the shadows of the foyer. Reaching into my pouch, I closed my fingers around a piece of iron. Chapter 11: Descent Chapter 11. DESCENT Sword drawn, the man looked around the foyer, his head darting left and right, though his eyes saw nothing of me. I took a few quiet steps back, giving myself room to work a spell. Quickly, I dropped the piece of iron, moving my arms up, then down in a swift motion, draining the iron of its matter. ¡°Who¡¯s there!¡± the man cried, starting to panic. The iron disappeared and its matter stalled there in the air, waiting to be used. I unwrapped the rope tied around my waist and threw the end into the air. Swirling my arms around again, performing a very specific animating spell, I sent the matter into the rope, giving it a kind of life. Suddenly, the rope launched out toward the man and wrapped around him in a tight vice grip. The man began to panic?¡ª?I heard his breathing speed up and he groaned as the rope wrapped tight around his torso. He dropped to his knees, then all the way to ground. The rope held him in an unnaturally firm grip, almost like steel binders, and would do so for hours hence if I let it. I got up close to his face, and though he couldn¡¯t see me, he could feel my breath on his cheek. ¡°I¡¯m looking for a boy, a young mage. Where is he?¡± I growled. The man stuttered. ¡°Who are¡­what is it¡­ you want?¡± ¡°The mage was here a week ago. Where did you take him?¡± I unsheathed my steel, bringing the blade of my knife under his chin so he could feel the cold metal on his skin. The man inhaled abruptly when he felt the cold metal on his neck. His hands shook, fear lit his face, and then before I could say another word, his eyes flashed wide. His face paled and he met my eyes directly. I realized that I¡¯d just materialized above him. I was perfectly visible again. It probably seemed intentional to his eyes, as if I¡¯d made myself visible to threaten him. Either way, I could use his shock to help me. ¡°Who are you?¡± he whispered, tears in his eyes now. ¡°The boy,¡± I said again. ¡°Do you remember him?¡± The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. He nodded. I heard shouting outside in the yard?¡ª?I needed to finish this up fast. ¡°Where have you put him?¡± I shouted. ¡°They took him downstairs, down¡­all the way¡­¡± he sputtered and tried to move. I dug my knee into his chest. ¡°Down where?¡± ¡°Below the keep¡­deep in¡­tunnels.¡± ¡°Is Uof going to kill him?¡± The man stared at me as if I¡¯ve asked him a stupid question. ¡°No, of course not,¡± the man said as if that answered it. ¡°He¡¯ll keep him then?¡± ¡°We¡¯ll take him to The Factory,¡± the man replied, looking at me with a strange light in his eyes as if I should have known. ¡°He¡¯ll want your power too, mage.¡± I rammed the butt of my knife into the man¡¯s head, knocking him senseless. As I strung my rope back around my waist, my mind hummed to life, processing a new idea. If Uof weren¡¯t killing the mages, then he needed their power for some reason. He used them. I knew that he, and Weer before him, had killed hundreds, if not thousands of mages. But perhaps here he enslaved mages instead of killing them outright? But why? Bodyguards? Surely no true Mage would protect the man who destroyed their order. Then, why did Uof want them at all? I dropped a small flake of gold in the air, drained it, and rendered its matter useful. I spun the matter into an unmovable wall of air sealing the front door of the prison. Then I scanned the foyer for stairs going down. Besides the front door, now blocked, there were stairs going up, and on the opposite side was the door I entered from the banquet hall. At the far end of the hall, there was one more door. I sprinted through this last door. The door led to a deserted hallway beyond the foyer. The hallway ran the length of the east side of the keep. Doors ran along both sides of the hall, and I tried them all. I found barracks and service rooms, but I saw no more soldiers in the process. A couple of the doors were locked, perhaps weapons caches or a treasury. I opened the last door on my left and immediately I could tell. This was it. The smell beyond the door was musty and earthen. The room in front of me was small, with a few shelves and supplies, room to place a cloak or a hat, with another door on the other side of the room. Beyond that door, I found what I was looking for. A dark, dank stairwell led down and a damp smell hung in the air. I closed the door behind me and just before I ducked down into the stairwell, I heard a large boom. It sounded like the men outside were trying to knock down the front door. I wished them good luck in that endeavor, as I''d seen a wall of air last for days¡ªthough I''d never fought an entire army of Motorized. I took the steps down two at a time, trying to stay quiet just in case someone stood guard at the bottom. I thought about the way back, and how I would escape from this prison once I¡¯d found Bend. I hoped there was an exit down here somewhere, so I wouldn¡¯t have to thread my way back to the surface and fight my way out. Then I pondered the question I¡¯d had in my head for the last few minutes. Why would Uof want to capture mages? How was he using them? If he needed their power, perhaps it had something to do with the hybrid weapons that he¡¯d been creating in this city for decades. The soldier had mentioned something called ¡°The Factory.¡± Was there a place in the city where Uof made the hybrid weapons and the other motorized devices that had made him rich? Finally, as I continued down, I thought about the boy. Bend. If the boy is still alive, then I¡¯ve got a chance I thought. If not, it was all for nothing anyway. Chapter 12: Mages Dont Last Long In Vale Chapter 12. MAGES DON''T LAST LONG IN VALE The stairs led down what seemed like four levels, taking me deep below the surface, before I saw the first door. The stairs kept going down. I stopped and opened the door anyway, cracking it slightly to peer inside a dark, cobwebbed hallway leading into a black maw. Unsure what I would find, I stepped past the door to explore. Quickly, I winked several pieces of granite into nothingness and wove their matter into small lights that I attached to the walls of the hallway as I went. Several doors eventually appeared on either side of the hallway, and in checking them I found supplies: chests of clothing, bedding, foodstuffs, uniforms, and barrels of some kind of mead or wine. This was not a dungeon. I made a quick search of the rest of the floor?¡ª?all storage?¡ª?then ran back to the stairwell, expecting to see soldiers coming down at any moment. I continued down the stairs quickly. I threw up small lights along the way as the stairwell dove deeper into the mountain. After walking down another four flights of stairs, a vague glow appeared from below. Could this be the bottom? I took each step slowly and quietly, keeping my staff up before me as a defensive measure. If this was the dungeon, I expected a jailer of some kind to appear at any moment. Turning the corner, I saw the stairs end and open into another dark hallway, this one lit by torches. I stepped to the bottom, moved close to the opening, leaning my head forward. The hallway led to a dark, cobwebbed chamber. I spied barred cells on both sides of the chamber, and the stench of sweat, blood, and defecation hung heavy in the air. So far, it looked like most dungeons I¡¯d seen in my travels. Some dungeons were packed full of bandits or beggars, while others sat dusty and empty. This dungeon seemed to be in working order, and I saw bodies in the cells, though not nearly as many as I¡¯d expected. As I leaned further around the stone doorframe, I saw a table and chairs midway down the hallway, in between the row of barred cells on both sides of the space. A single soldier occupied one of the chairs, and he seemed too busy with a leg of pheasant to notice me. Clearly, no one had alerted the lower levels of my presence yet. I leaned back into the stairwell and drew a small sliver of gemstone from my belt. I wove it away and drew on its matter to perform a simple spell that I hoped would be powerful enough to startle the single soldier. Weave complete, I stepped around the corner and strode into the dungeon. I threw my arm forward, took several long strides, and then drew my arms back again, with force. A massive eruption of light with an accompanying ¡°thud¡± hammered into the air at the moment the soldier looked up and saw me, his mouth full of pheasant. I closed my eyes precisely as I loosed the spell, shielding them from the flash-bang effect, meant to startle enemies with both force and light. I opened my eyes to see the soldier blinded and knocked off his chair, now groping awkwardly and clawing the air. I took three quick steps and drove the end of my staff into his temple, dropping him to the ground, unconscious. All around, faces and eyes peered from behind the bars. Before I could search the cells, a sound came to my ears. I heard footsteps thudding toward me. Had the soldiers already breached the wall of air above? A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. I ran back to the stairwell, but the sound was coming from a different direction. I stepped back into the dungeon itself and moved toward the sound. The footsteps grew louder as I moved toward the back of the dungeon itself. I caught sight of another set of stairs at the far end of the hallway behind a few moldering bales of hay. I looked down the stairway, and saw nothing, but heard the sounds of someone thudding up the stairs growing louder. Someone was coming, likely more than one person by the sound of it. I didn¡¯t have time to consider the possibility that an entire regiment may be coming for me, perhaps having entered the prison from outside. Quickly, I readied myself for whoever was coming. I vanished another shard of gemstone, my last one, and drew a rune in the air in front of the stairwell, in the place where the first soldier would step into this room. Then I went through the pockets and pouches of the fallen guard and came up with a handful of small coins, likely copper. Not powerful, but matter is matter, and I couldn¡¯t be choosy now. Almost before I could pull my hands from the fallen guard¡¯s pockets, a man barreled up the last of the stairs, his sword drawn before him, and he growled when he saw me bending over the jailer rifling through his pockets. I took several steps back. In a ¡°whoosh¡± he moved through my air rune and his entire body burst into flames, his growls turning to guttural screams. He stumbled into the hay bales, which didn¡¯t help, and collapsed to the ground, the flames burning hotter as they caught the hay bales on fire. While he screamed, a second man stepped into the dungeon, leaped over his comrade and advanced with his sword. I jabbed at him with my staff to keep him back while spending a gold piece and draining its matter into the air. Then I wove a new spell. The soldier saw my weaves. ¡°Mage, are ye?¡± he growled, dirty teeth smiling. ¡°Mages don¡¯t last long ¡®n Vale.¡± With lightning quickness, he brought his sword down toward my head, but he missed as I stumbled back. On his follow through, I noticed his sword was a rare make, sparkling with hints of gemstones and gold banding along the hilt. I knew fine craftsmanship when I saw it, and I was already toying with the enchantments I could embed within the sword. First things first. The soldier shuffled forward again, swinging his sword around in an arc toward my stomach, forcing me back again, so far that I tripped over the chair and table behind me and sprawled to the ground. The soldier took my fall as his opportunity to leap above me, bringing his sword back, preparing to swing down toward my face. I wheeled my staff around to block just in time, and used the matter from the gold piece, unleashing a bolt of energy at the soldier¡¯s midsection, nearly slicing him in half as he fell toward me, his face registering surprise and shock as he fell, bleeding and dying. I felt a simultaneous thrill of buzzing energy as I cast the spell, stronger than before. I realized that I hadn''t used this much magic in such a short span of time in years, and the familiar shot of energy was getting stronger with every spell cast. I stood up slowly, getting out from under the body, covered in the man¡¯s blood, my staff in one hand. With my other hand, I took up his sword and inspected it momentarily. Excellent craftsmanship indeed. As I admired the sword, two more soldiers stepped up the stairs and into the dungeon. The first soldier¡¯s face fell when he saw three colleagues in various fallen states, one nearly split in half, another collapsed to the ground, and the third still burning in the corner. His mouth opened when he saw me. I must have looked a sight. I still wore my wide-brimmed black hat, long dark overcoat, both splashed with blood, carrying two weapons before me, my face wreathed in shadows. Despite how I must have looked, my side pulsed with the beat of my heart. It was probably slick with blood inside the wrappings; however, by this time adrenaline also coursed through my body, and I felt little pain. As both soldiers stepped into the dungeon, they exchange looks of fear and shock. They must be used to fighting mages in this city, but perhaps they weren¡¯t used to facing sophisticated mages with a lifetime of experience fighting. The soldiers of Vale expected to be in charge, they were usually feared and obeyed. ¡°Listen, you¡­¡± the first man began. I cocked my head to the side, like a hound staring curiously at a meal. ¡°We don¡¯t want no trouble with yer sort?¡ª?¡± he continued. While he talked, I dropped a piece of granite and wove it¡¯s matter away. He watched me as I did, his eyes widening as the small rock disappeared. ¡°Whatcha doin now?¡± he cried out, taking a stumbling step back. I wove the matter into a small bulb of light and threw the bulb to a spot on the ceiling above their heads. Both men ducked in a panic, one skittering into a corner. ¡°I just want to see you better is all,¡± I replied with a crooked grin. ¡°We don¡¯ want no trouble,¡± said the man in the corner. ¡°Just take what ya want and go!¡± ¡°I want the mage,¡± I said. Chapter 13: Into the Depths Chapter 13. INTO THE DEPTHS ¡°What mage?¡± the first man replied, swallowing hard. I leaned down to the unconscious soldier, whose mouth was still half-full of pheasant, and grabbed a ring of keys from his belt. ¡°Show me where he is, or you both die,¡± I said. While I waited for their answer, I dropped another piece of gold?¡ª?my last one?¡ª?and drained its matter away. ¡°Hang on now,¡± the first man blurted. I continued my weave, casting the matter into a fireball that flared into existence and hovered before me, glowing brightly with an audible and intimidating hum. It would only last about three minutes before fizzling out, but I hoped that would be long enough. ¡°Where is he?¡± I asked finally. Both men pointed down the stairs and stepped back as if to let me go. ¡°Drop your swords,¡± I ordered, and they obeyed. Taking the jailer¡¯s keys, I opened the nearest cell, and waved the single prisoner out. I gestured the soldiers inside. They shuffled into the cell, my fireball dancing between us like a rabid attack dog, buzzing aggressively. I locked the cell door and tossed the keys to the prisoner I¡¯d just freed, then slid the sword and its scabbard onto my belt. I hadn¡¯t used a well-made sword in years. As I moved toward the back stairs, the freed prisoner began freeing the others. I stepped down the stairs and heard a muffled explosion above, followed by distant shouting. My wall of air hadn¡¯t lasted as long as I¡¯d hoped. They must have used some kind of hybrid or steam-powered cannon to blast through it. Mysteries upon mysteries, I thought, wondering what technologies they would reveal next. This was Vale; I knew it wouldn¡¯t be easy. I took the steps faster, my breath quickening and my heart pounding. I was sweating now, my side starting to hurt again. The stairwell was dark and tight, the steps slick with a mossy sheen, and the smell of mildew and rot grew heavier. The stairs opened up into a large stone-walled room, brightly lit by a half-dozen torches and well-appointed with multiple beds, chairs, and tables?¡ª?obviously the jailer¡¯s quarters. A fireplace burned in one corner, where a full pot of stew bubbled. There was no exit in sight, except for a single, large, black iron door set into a rock wall?¡ª?bolted shut on the right side of the room. I moved across the room, unbolted the door, and swung it open, its iron hinges groaning. A blast of cold air hit me in the face as the door revealed a dark, yawning natural cavern. I pulled a torch from its socket on the wall and stepped inside. Somewhere lower down, I heard rushing water, perhaps from a small waterfall or an underground stream. A moan echoed from deep in the cavern. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ¡°Unnnggghh.¡± I walked forward, my staff pressed to the ground for balance, as I pointed the torch around, seeking the source of the sound. On the back wall of the cavern, the torchlight revealed chains mounted directly into the rock at various intervals. I splashed light around the room until I saw a body strung up with arms spread wide, chained to the wall, legs standing shakily on the slippery, mossy rock. The body raised its head toward my light, both drawn to it and repelled by it as its eyes squinted against the brightness. It was a man. I moved to him quickly. He wore only a breechcloth, his shaggy dark hair falling in messy strands. His body was bruised and bloody all over?¡ª?he¡¯d been beaten repeatedly over the past week. I took his sweaty chin in my gloved hand. ¡°What is your name?¡± His eyes focused on me for a moment before squinting shut again against the light. He had Dirk¡¯s look about him. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m¡­¡± the man trailed off, his head lolling. ¡°Thirsty.¡± ¡°Yes, yes, but what¡¯s your name?¡± ¡°Bend. Name¡¯s Bend,¡± he mumbled. ¡°Water¡­ please.¡± With two small blasts from the head of my staff, the chains on Bend¡¯s wrists shattered, and he sagged into my arms. I sat him down on a rock and drew my cup from my pouch, grabbing a small stone from the cavern floor. With a swift motion, I vanished the rock. Bend¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Water spellcast,¡± he whispered, watching as the cup filled. After a brief pause, he looked up at me, his eyes widening further. ¡°You¡¯re¡­ a mage? You trained¡­ in The Way?¡± I nodded and put the cup to his lips. He drank greedily until it was empty, then looked up at me. ¡°How did you get here? Who are you?¡± he asked, gathering his thoughts. ¡°Later,¡± I replied. ¡°Is there a way out of here?¡± ¡°I think so. The stream goes out?¡ª?there¡¯s a path that follows it.¡± ¡°Where does it lead?¡± I asked, looking toward a tunneled corner of the cavern, from which the sounds of water came. I saw a steep incline going deeper into the rock. It wouldn¡¯t be an easy hike for a man who¡¯d been chained for three weeks. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Bend admitted. ¡°It might lead to their water source. But sometimes, I¡¯ve seen them bring in supplies from that direction. So, it must lead somewhere.¡± I paused, turning the problem over in my mind. ¡°You¡¯ll need clothes, boots, a cloak. Stay here,¡± I said. Back in the jailer¡¯s quarters, five prisoners were dressing in the jailers¡¯ clothes and arming themselves. They might actually be useful in the next ten minutes. The first prisoner I¡¯d freed, a man with knotted hair, met my gaze. His eyes, though weathered, burned with wild excitement. ¡°They¡¯re coming,¡± he said. Above, I heard commotion growing closer. The guards in the dungeon¡¯s cells were shouting to their fellows above. Maybe I ought to have downed them both. From a nearby chest, I grabbed a cloak, a pair of pants, and some old leather boots, then returned to Bend. The five former prisoners followed me into the cavern. As Bend dressed, moving slowly, I studied the incline toward the underground stream, a plan forming in my mind. I checked my stores. No more gemstones, but I still had the diamond, a gold bracelet, and some pieces of iron, steel, and copper coins. I turned to the prisoners. ¡°If we¡¯re going to get out of here alive, I need your help,¡± I said. ¡°Understand?¡±¡¯ They nodded. I quickly drained a piece of steel of its matter. ¡°Bend, grab my staff,¡± I said. He grasped it with bloodied fingers, using it hold himself up. I wove a healing spell and released it into him through the staff. While I never studied healing in the Way, I could perform a minor healing spell that might help him a little¡ªit wouldn''t be anywhere as powerful as a spell from a true healer, but it would have to do. Too bad healing spells couldn''t be performed on yourself¡ªor I could take the edge off the pain in my side. Either way, the immediate thrill from using so much magic, came again, deeper inside me this time, a buzzing behind my eyes. Bend¡¯s eyes lit up, his cuts slowly sealed, and I could see some of his strength started to return. ¡°Who¡­ are you?¡± Bend whispered. ¡°The better question is, why am I here?¡± I replied. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°I was looking for you, Bend,¡± I said quickly. ¡°For others like me. Too many mages are gone. But first, we must get out alive. You with me?¡± He nodded slowly, looking at me through swollen eyes. I looked back at the cavern entrance. ¡°Close the door,¡± I ordered. The last prisoner slammed it shut. ¡°What are you going to do?¡± Bend asked. ¡°I¡¯m going to collapse this cavern,¡± I replied. Chapter 14: Underground Lake Chapter 14. UNDERGROUND LAKE Six former prisoners started to move down the path and into a small tunnel running alongside the stream, while I placed small stones, coins, and rocks in strategic places around the cavern. One by one, I placed each piece, drained it of its matter, and held that in stasis as I wove a complex spell that would trigger all at once. As I ran through each of my weaves, I thought about all the other mages captured in Vale over many years, and probably tortured here. In this very cavern. These were my brethren, those who had fought for The Way in this twisted city. After what little I¡¯d learned, it seemed their power had been used somehow, against their will¡ªperhaps right before they were murdered. Mages had been eradicated from the land, and this place was one source of that genocide. As I moved through the final weaves, the distant sound of the clattering of feet on the stairwell echoed through the cavern. We¡¯d barricaded the doorway with metal bars, and I threw up a wall of air too, but neither would hold long. The clattering feet stopped¡ªthere was probably a whole squad of soldiers in the adjacent room now. I heard nothing for a few moments. BOOM! An explosion hammered against the black iron door at the cavern entrance surprising me and nearly throwing the door off its hinges in one go. They had fired something explosive at the door. I glanced back and saw the men waiting for me a few hundred yards away in the mouth of the tunnel. ¡°Keep going!¡± I shouted. ¡°I¡¯ll be right behind you.¡± I quickened my pace and completed the spell just at the moment a second booming explosion slammed into the door, the deafening sound echoing off the walls of the cavern, dust falling into the space. The door now sat ajar leaning on its lower hinge, but my wall of air survived. Several thugs tried to jump the iron door and into the cavern but ran headlong into the invisible barrier and fell straight to the ground. The barrier would stand for perhaps one more blow. Weaves complete, I turned and moved down the slope of slippery, wet rock toward the tunnel at the bottom of the cavern. I breathed deep as I moved and felt myself sweating through my thick wool robes. Darkness pervaded this place, and though I started to feel weak, I wove a small stone away, transforming it into a light that I placed on the head of my staff. I caught up to the men walking ahead of me into the tunnel. ¡°Let¡¯s move,¡± I growled at the prisoners when I reached the tunnel opening in the back of the cavern. ¡°We need to be as deep into this tunnel as possible when that cavern collapses.¡± I moved into the lead. They followed me and the light from my staff into the dark, damp tunnel, the trickling stream running alongside us. A third BOOM! slammed against the wall of air far behind us now, and I heard the iron door itself clatter against the back of the cavern. I forced myself to slowly count to three, as we kept moving, allowing the guards to move past the doorway and into the cavern. One.We couldn¡¯t see the cavern behind us anymore as we¡¯d gone around a bend in the narrow tunnel. I hoped that bend would shield us from the coming blast. Two. ¡°Get down and take cover,¡± I whispered to the men. Each of them ducked down along the side of the tunnel, covering their heads with their hands. Three. I stopped and lifted my arms like a conductor of the orchestras of old. I danced my hands around gently, triggering the complex spell I¡¯d woven in the cavern. At that moment, a thunderclap battered the walls of the tunnel, echoing down from the cavern behind us. The sound was a deep, sharp thud in the darkness that resulted in what sounded like an avalanche of thundering rock. It was too dark here to know for sure, but the resulting gouts of dust and rock that spilled into the tunnel confirmed that the spell worked as hoped. Perhaps the spell had debilitated or downed the guards behind us permanently; but at the very least, I¡¯d blocked their ability to follow us deeper. I turned to the men with me, the light on my staff the only illumination in the small dark, and now dust-filled tunnel. ¡°If you want to live, we¡¯ve gotta hurry now!¡± I called out. I turned and ran, and all six of them followed behind me, all of us hugging the walls of the tunnel path alongside the stream. The winding path kept us moving deeper and lower. I couldn¡¯t tell if we were moving deeper into the mountain, or toward some inevitable outflow. Taking this route had been a risk, but I had to hope it was better than trying to fight off a whole division of soldiers inside the city. The liberated prisoners followed me silently, knowing we had no choice but to continue on through the dark. Whenever I darted my eyes back to look at the men, they inevitably flicked to Bend, the first partial mage I¡¯d met in years. He appeared quite young, almost boyish, though his face still wore exhaustion under his eyes. But he was a mage of The Way. I only wished there were more than one of him¡ªfor then we could think about what came next. It was a slim hope. I knew that after this attack, Uof and his soldiers wouldn¡¯t stop until they found me. We would have to be careful now?¡ª?they would overturn every shop and home in the city of Vale to find us . As we ran, I recalled how Weer was seen as a prophet, leader of a new way that had overtaken the world, as he spread the gospel of The Motorized. Newer, stronger weapons and tools and vehicles were how they convinced people they were saviors. Many decades ago, The Motorized were just a myth, and Weer with his stronghold in Vale, a legend. It was said to be a place where steam-powered magical weapons flourished. Once mages of The Way of the Mark opposed The Motorized, that¡¯s when the Magekillers from Vale started to appear. They didn¡¯t broadcast their purpose or identity when they arrived, that came much later. Instead, they showed up in a city or a village, appearing like phantoms and ruthlessly rooting out mages, one at a time. They traveled alone, but in populated mage strongholds, groups of Magekillers arrived together. Sometimes the Magekillers killed on sight; sometimes they worked their way into a city, watching closely, evaluating defenses, counting mages, and developing a plan; while other times, they simply kidnapped a mage and disappeared. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. As I continues to move into the darkness, I listened to the trickle of water running alongside us¡ªthe anomaly of the stream struck me¡ªin our push to escape, I hadn¡¯t really thought about it. The prisoners had already drank their fill of water from its banks, but I could only wonder, where was this water coming from? It hadn¡¯t always been a world of drought. Over decades of war between The Way and The Motorized, the world itself began to change. The droughts began as seasonal problems, then changed into a way of life as mages went into hiding becoming more and more difficult to find. Dust storms covered the land and eroded good farming soils and made it difficult for anyone to survive. In those years, I began traveling to seek out those of The Way, to learn, teach, and encourage?¡ª?this was decades ago?¡ª?and of course, sometimes I¡¯d been forced to hide too. But I was done hiding. I came across only two mages in the last five years, and one of those died in a battle with The Motorized. I still held onto the meager hope that the other still lived. Ultimately, I longed for a new world, a new order, a land where followers of The Way could learn and grow their knowledge and pass it on to others who would share it with any who would follow. I held onto the slimmest glimmer of hope that this dream had begun here, today. While I¡¯d been consumed with my thoughts, it felt like we¡¯d been hiking quickly along the stream for hours. Tracking time was difficult in this darkness. Eventually, the tunnel opened up into another cavern and the small, trickling stream we¡¯d been following deposited into an underground lake?¡ª?a stunning sight! I¡¯d never seen so much water in one place, not in all my life. The men gasped collectively. This amount of water didn¡¯t exist anymore, nowhere I supposed except here in Vale. Across the small lake, a hint of light filtered in through an opening in the cavern wall where lake water streamed out of the cave system in a thin, winding creek. This amount of water would be protected from both sides. From above by that prison. And on this side, there would be guards¡ªI knew it. This would not be a simple escape. After a moment to take in the sight, we broke into a slow, careful run, making our way along the path around the lake. Minutes later we stepped close to the mouth of the cavern¡¯s entrance, where water trickled gently outside. Dawn hadn¡¯t broken yet, but the night sky had begun lightening. We must¡¯ve been running through those tunnels for much longer than I¡¯d realized. Looking around the corner, sure enough, the water channeled directly underneath a large warehouse structure, which walled off all access to this water, and guarded by a dozen or more motorized soldiers?¡ª?and those were the men we could see. There were sure to be more inside. We were gifted one stroke of good luck, however, as the soldiers didn¡¯t appear to be on high alert here, not yet. We had to capitalize on this moment because it wouldn¡¯t last. On all sides of the cave exit, I saw sheer cliffs leading up into mountainous forest, making the warehouse the only viable exit. They¡¯d built high walls on either side of the building, stretching to the cliff walls on either side. Guards walked the roof of the building and along the wall top. I took a deep breath. The effort of casting spells wasn¡¯t so much that three, four, even five spells could tire someone so badly that they couldn¡¯t cast another spell. But casting a dozen spells in one night took a toll on a mage¡¯s energy level¡ªmaking their effectiveness less and less over time. My energy thus depleted, I knew I didn¡¯t have many more spells in me. The source of the matter was the first issue, the rarity of the spell another, but a mage¡¯s energy was still a third piece. One must be wise about how they spent their energy?¡ª?and I had used mine liberally up to now giving me a buzzing, charged feeling in my head. I knew I would pay for it later in recovery. I looked down the length of the wall that I could see. If we could get to the wall unseen, maybe we could get through it somehow and steal away quickly. We crouched near the cave mouth, the men looking to me for a plan. ¡°Bend, you trained in survival skills,¡± I said. He nodded. ¡°What spellcasts did you learn?¡± ¡°I can make fire, water, as well as masking scents and visibility for hunting,¡± he said in reply. ¡°I learned other survival skills, minor healing and binding, but nothing like what you did to me back in that cave.¡± I nodded. ¡°Do you think you could mask all of us for a short amount of time? I want to get us to that wall without the guards seeing us.¡± He nodded, ¡°With enough matter I can do it?¡ª?we won¡¯t be invisible, just harder to see. Their eyes will bounce past us for a short time.¡± ¡°That¡¯s okay, it¡¯s still dark enough that your masking might be all we need.¡± I handed him a small piece of jade broken out of someone¡¯s necklace the day before, and he took it and nodded. ¡°After I weave the masking, stay close to me, all of you,¡± Bend said to me and the rest of the men standing around us. ¡°The guards can still hear us clearly, so keep your steps slow and quiet. Understand?¡± The former prisoners nodded, watching the two of us carefully with wide eyes. They¡¯d certainly not seen many mages in their lifetimes, and therefore, not many spells. ¡°Good,¡± I said. ¡°Start your weave, and I¡¯ll work on a plan for getting us through that wall.¡± Bend began to move his hands around in complex forms, reminiscent of spells I¡¯d seen before, but some of his movements were new to me. While he did that, I inspected my remaining store of matter. Granite was plentiful. I had a gold bracelet and a few copper coins left which I could spin into minor spells. ¡°Okay, we¡¯re cloaked,¡± Bend said, sweat beading on his forehead. ¡°It will last us maybe fifteen minutes. Let¡¯s move.¡± ¡°All of you, follow me closely,¡± I whispered. ¡°Bend, stay in the middle. Everyone, remember, slow, quiet steps. They can still hear us.¡± Slowly I crept out of our hiding spot at the mouth of the cave and moved out into the open. We needed to cross about a hundred yards to get us to the cover of the forest on this side of the wall. I hoped that Bend¡¯s cloaking spell would also get us far beyond the other side of the wall, so we could sneak away quietly. We took slow, careful steps across the open land, heading to the wall. The only sounds were the trickle of the water and the light chatter of a couple of guards on the wall. We moved painfully slow, each step taking us closer to cover. Halfway to our destination, we heard the guards chatter increase. Voices shouted to one another. We heard men running downstairs and the clatter of more boots. We froze. Had they seen us? I highly doubted it and motioned to the men to keep moving with a small wave of my arm. Suddenly, a gate in the wooden wall opened up and a dozen soldiers ran through, each carrying motorized weapons and their faces looked intent on killing something. Surely, they had seen us. Before I could react, as they were only a couple dozen yards away, Bend grabbed my arm, moving us out of the way of the oncoming soldiers. We scooted quietly up the side of the hill and held our breath. I pulled the gold bracelet from my pack and held it in my palm, my breath in my throat, ready to deploy a last-minute spell. Then, the men ran past us, heading for the cavern entrance. They had heard about our little attack and were trying to box us in. They thought we were still in the tunnels. I breathed a sigh of relief. Looking around in front of us, I noticed that the gate had been left open. There were only two soldiers patrolling the roof of the warehouse now. There were two more at the gate, but it hung wide open. I looked to Bend. ¡°The gate,¡± I whispered, gesturing with my head. He looked and nodded. Slowly, the group of us crept forward heading for the open gate, our spirits rising, as we were close to freedom, finally. But before we got close enough, I spied what I¡¯d feared from the beginning: two Mage Beacons. The first Mage Beacon sat atop the warehouse itself, while another appeared on a staff moving about behind the gate. Some thug was carrying it around. And the Mage Beacon closest to us was changing, its amber hues just starting to light up. Chapter 15: Who Are You? Chapter 15. WHO ARE YOU? We crouched in a small stand of bushes near the warehouse gate. Bend¡¯s illusion spell wouldn¡¯t last much longer and our bodies grew more visible by the moment. Both Mage Beacons blazed bright, activated by Bend¡¯s spell. The beacon lights sent a panic into the soldiers patrolling the warehouse and the wall. They moved a bit faster, constantly glancing over toward the cavern entrance. A second troop consisting of four more men marched toward the entrance, on high alert, forcing us to keep still where we crouched. As Bend¡¯s spell lessened in its power, the Mage Beacon¡¯s light started to falter and slowly grew dim. We needed to move fast now. The soldiers who¡¯d moved into the cave system could be back at any moment. This was our chance. The others looked at me as we tried to make ourselves small. ¡°Give me a moment,¡± I grunted. Time slowed in my mind as I studied the problem. There was an open gate, but two men stood guard. There was at least one guard walking the top of the wall on this side of the warehouse. We could see two Mage Beacons, which removed the element of surprise if I used any spells at all. We could easily overpower the two guards at the gate with the weapons we had on us, but then we risked running into more soldiers, and who knew, maybe half a regiment on the other side of the gate. The odds of our escape without using magic were difficult to calculate. I thought I had enough energy for one more decent spell. ¡°Bend, do you have it in you to weave another spell?¡± I whispered. He nodded. ¡°You and I will have to weave at the same instant,¡± I whispered. ¡°Once we do, those Mage Beacons will light up like a bonfire, so we¡¯ll need to move quickly.¡± I gave him a copper coin and pulled out the gold bracelet. ¡°Weave another spell of cloaking over all of us, just like before. I¡¯ll take care of the rest,¡± I said. ¡°Ready?¡± He took the copper coin, got himself ready, and nodded. ¡°Alright, now,¡± I said. I drained the matter from the gold bracelet, holding the matter above me in the air. I needed as much power as I could get. Once that was done, I drained a piece of granite from the ground nearby, and then another one. One after another I added the matter of each and every rock I could find to the swirl of matter in the air above me. It was a delicate balance to keep the matter spinning so as not to lose any of it. ¡°The beacon is glowing,¡± whispered the prisoner with the long, knotted locks of hair. Beside me, I could see Bend weaving his spell out of my peripheral vision. I looked to the wall, constructed from some kind of hardwood. I had been thinking about a spell I¡¯d performed long before?¡ª?a spell that disappeared matter for a few moments, then returned it just as it was before. Voices started shouting around us as the guards noticed the beacons gleaming bright again above their heads, and I heard a rush of men to the gate, which they now drew closed and locked tight. That might actually help us, I thought. We heard the cocking of several hybrid weapons, some of them clicking and whirring, some burping steam from the other side of the wall. ¡°We¡¯re cloaked,¡± Bend whispered. ¡°Get ready to move,¡± I grunted to the rest, still working. I began forming the matter into a cast of temporary elimination. I focused the weave on two panels in the wooden wall in front of us, moving my hands carefully until the spell was complete. This part of the wall was far enough away from the gate that it might escape the notice of the guards. Finishing the weave, I walked forward quietly and laid my bare palms on the two beams of wood. This released the spellcast. The wooden panels wavered slightly, then vanished. I waved to the rest of the group. Let¡¯s go! Due to the commotion at the gates, we slipped through the walls unhurriedly and moved into the forest on the other side. When we were a good distance away, I released the spell and the wooden panels in the wall returned with a slight flash, as if they¡¯d been there the whole time. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Behind us the light of the Mage Beacons slowly died out, going dull again, and the guards scratched their heads, wondering what had happened. We hiked through forested hillsides for another hour, taking the long way around and back to the city. As happy as I was to have rescued Bend, the night had taken a toll on me. My head pounded with a low buzzing feeling, making me feel dizzy, weak¡ªa particular feeling I¡¯d not felt to this extent before¡ªand my side throbbed painfully, and felt sticky under my shirt. I concentrated on keeping my eyes open, my legs moving, and on not passing out. As we walked, the small group of prisoners following me kept quiet. Eventually, Bend walked up next to me, his eyes facing forward. ¡°Mage, thank you getting me out of there,¡± he whispered. ¡°I¡¯m not sure I would have lasted much longer. I have to ask: Who are you?¡± It was quiet around us, finally, and I didn¡¯t want to interrupt the silence. We were far enough away from the guards now that I could speak freely, but I didn¡¯t necessarily want to share my origins with everyone in the group. Not in this still foreign place that I didn¡¯t know well. At the same time, what did I gain by holding back? ¡°I came from far across the desert, from a city many leagues from here,¡± I said quietly. ¡°I trained as a mage when I was very young and have watched our ways slowly die out in my own lifetime. I spent most of my years traveling and helping others, while avoiding the Motorized where I could.¡± Bend seemed to bite his lip, his mind chewing on this. ¡°If you were trying to avoid them, then why are you here?¡± Bend said finally. We walked through what was once a heavily forested area, though the trees here were stripped bare, and of those still standing, most were dead. The ground we walked over was littered with downed trees, sand, animal bones, and the other dried out ephemera of the forest. I took a deep breath and looked over at Bend, catching his eyes for a moment. ¡°Truly, I am here because I had no other choice. Nowhere else to go,¡± I paused. ¡°Bend, the world is now more desolate than ever. It is free of cities and mages. There isn¡¯t much left, maybe the occasional encampment or hamlet. Vale is the last place on the map.¡± Bend nodded, keeping his head down, watching his feet as we walked. ¡°But you asked why I am here,¡± I said, looking back to see who else was listening in. We¡¯d pulled away from the rest of the prisoners and were effectively alone. ¡°Bend, at some point in his journey, every mage needs to pass on their knowledge. I was taught this is part of what keeps a mage healthy, shared was he learned over the years. Unfortunately, the knowledge I passed on to many mages in my life has not outlived me. I believe the mages I have trained are all dead.¡± I winced involuntarily as I stated the fact out loud. ¡°So, you came to find me?¡± Bend asked, a flicker of hope in his eyes as he looked over at me. ¡°Yes,¡± I said, meeting his eyes. ¡°I came to find you. I¡¯d heard about Vale for most of my life. This place is the center of the fight against all of magekind. Honestly, I came hoping to build a mage school, as I want to bring back The Way of the Mark, to see a new world come into being?¡ª?but then I got here Bend. It¡¯s worse than I ever could have dreamed. So, if that¡¯s not possible¡ª¡± ¡°Who says it¡¯s not possible?¡± Bend jumped in, a bit eager. I smiled. ¡°Either way, I came to fight back, for as long as I have left.¡± ¡°I think we can bring it back Mage,¡± Bend said, his voice steeled, looking straight ahead as he walked. ¡°You need to pass on what you know. And I have much to learn.¡± ¡°I came to the right place then,¡± I replied. Bend smiled and we walked on. The human and machine sounds of the city slowly began to overtake the calm and quiet of the forest. As we neared the outer walls of Vale, we all split up and reentered the city alone. Before we parted ways, I gathered them together and gave them a warning to share with others. ¡°The Way of the Mark is alive and well,¡± I told them, as confidently as I could. ¡°The Motorized have terrorized those of The Way long enough. Choose carefully who you will support in the coming war.¡± The prisoner with the knotted hair, whose name we discovered was Briar, asked if he could return with Bend and I, effectively choosing his side now. We agreed to let him join us. The three of us slipped into the city from the North, where the forested hillsides protected our approach. There were soldiers out patrolling in the dawn hours as the sun rose over the Eastern horizon, but they seemed fewer in number than I¡¯d seen patrolling the streets on a normal night yesterday. I hope that was because there were too many soldiers searching for a rogue mage and digging out the crush of an avalanche of rock beneath the northern Prison Keep. That should confound them for another day or so. I removed my hat, and pulled up a hood, so as to draw less attention. We each moved through the gates individually, but walking close enough to watch each other, moving casually as if on an early morning outing to the market. Once deeper into the city, we came together, and Bend led us carefully behind a store to an outer basement entrance hidden between two buildings. We ducked into the basement quickly and then followed Bend down a secreted set of stairs in the back corner. The wooden stairs led into a pitch-black tunnel and as we took downward steps, I felt the earthen walls, with interspersing timber beams holding up the tunnel¡¯s ceiling. I had no energy left for a spell, not even for a small light to guide us. The exertion of the night settled into me like a sickness, and exhaustion came with it. I stumbled through the dark tunnels, following the others as if asleep. I wasn¡¯t as young as I used to be, and the pain of the wound in my side reared up in intensity now. I was nervous about what I would find if I stopped to check the wrappings. My breath caught as I tried to grit my teeth and muscle through the pain. I hoped all this effort, and the hard work that was to come, would be worth it before it was all over. Worth what? I didn¡¯t know. However, I felt in my bones that the forces of Vale, most of which I had yet to meet, would retaliate with ferocity. Bend drew a lantern from somewhere and lit it, leading us deeper into the tunnels. My eyes grew heavier as we marched, and soon I was stumbling blindly behind, nearly tripping with every other step. I grew bad enough that Briar came up behind me and took my arm around his shoulders, helping me to walk. The last thing I recall before I passed out on a makeshift bed in a room somewhere deep under the city, was seeing Dirk enclose Bend in the massive hug of a father and son. I smiled as I settled in to sleep. In the morning I knew I would need to begin training up an army. Chapter 16: What Next Mage? Chapter 16. WHAT NEXT MAGE? I woke to a sharp pain in my side. I sat up quickly and regretted it immediately as pain exploded in my head. My eyes ached at the attempt to open them, forcing me back down onto the bed with a groan. ¡°Stay put,¡± came the sound of a lilting voice. Lissa. I turned my head toward her voice, keeping my eyes closed. ¡°You¡¯ve been asleep all day,¡± she said. ¡°And as your healer, it¡¯s my duty to tell you that you shouldn¡¯t have mounted an attack on a prison in your condition. What were you thinking Mage?¡± ¡°Lissa,¡± I groaned, offering a half-smile, my eyes still squeezed shut. ¡°Do you have any more of that stew?¡± ¡°Yes, I have more stew,¡± she replied. ¡°But before you get any, you must promise me you won¡¯t go traipsing about the city drawing the eyes of Uof and his thugs again. Okay?¡± ¡°Not today,¡± I said, my voice hoarse. ¡°I promise.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not what I asked,¡± Lissa countered. Finally, I forced my eyes open, and a wave of d¨¦j¨¤ vu washed over me. I¡¯d felt almost exactly this terrible in this same room barely twenty-four hours before. ¡°You made quite a stir in the city last night,¡± Lissa said, ladling stew into a small bowl. ¡°The morning barkers are shouting news of you, and the taverns and markets are abuzz with stories of the return of magekind to Vale. Soldiers are trying to suppress the rumors, but too many people saw Mage Beacons lighting up near the Prison Keep. Enough heard the guards talking about an attack, not to mention the explosions echoing along the northern part of the city. Your story, though little of it connected to reality, has taken on a life of its own. Some whisper about an army of mages loose in the city. Are you pleased with yourself?¡± I accepted the bowl of stew and carefully sat up, feeling a bit chastened. My antics were sure to make whatever we did next harder to pull off. ¡°Is Bend all right?¡± I asked, steering the conversation in another direction. Lissa¡¯s mouth broke into a smile, her eyes gleaming. ¡°He is,¡± she replied. ¡°After being arrested, imprisoned, and tortured, somehow he seems to have more life in him than I¡¯ve seen in ages.¡± ¡°Then, yes, to answer your question. I¡¯m pleased with myself,¡± I said. ¡°Are Dirk and the others safe?¡± ¡°So far, yes,¡± she said, sobering a bit. ¡°The Motorized have intensified their searches. They found one of our boltholes and a large cache of supplies. They¡¯re offering rewards for information leading to rebel captures. No one is helping them yet, but we¡¯ll see how long that lasts. We may need to find new quarters soon.¡± I took a bite of the stew, chewing slowly as its warmth spread through my body. ¡°When you¡¯re finished, come join the rest of us,¡± Lissa said. ¡°Everybody is eager to meet you.¡± I ate my fill, washed my face with the bowl of water near the door, and dressed carefully so as not to wound myself further. My side still hurt, but thankfully, it was a dull ache in the background. Then, I stood and shuffled through one of the doors into the next room. I hadn¡¯t spent any time in this room during my previous stay, as I left this area of their tunnels quickly in order to find Bend. As I stepped into it now, I could tell it was a gathering place for the resistance. Dirk and Bend sat near the front of the grand hall, in front of a crowd of others, recounting the story of the night before. Lissa stood near the back, and Briar, with his long, knotted hair, sat at the side of the room, watching Bend share the story. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. No one had noticed me yet. I look at this grand hall, a place carved out of a cavern, and turned into a larger meeting room. A roaring hearth fire blazed directly behind Bend and Dirk, and they sat on a slightly raised platform. This space felt like one of the ancient, sacred academies of The Way?¡ª?places of study and training for mages and their apprentices, long since torn down or razed in battles. The great sloped ceiling, supported by thick wooden beams, stretched the length of the hall. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen anything like it,¡± Bend said, speaking to the group in an animated voice. ¡°We could see and hear the guards panicking all around us¡ªscrambling and afraid¡ªbecause they knew we were close, as their beacons were lit up like I¡¯ve never seen! But they had no idea we would bypass the gate entirely and go through the damn wall!¡± A round of laughter rippled through the room. As I stepped toward the group, still moving cautiously, I found a place to stand in the back of the gathering hall. Bend stood up, seeing me. ¡°And there he is now,¡± he called out. ¡°Our rescuer!¡± The room turned around and erupted in cheers, claps, and whistles. I gave a careful, mock bow. ¡°Please, please,¡± I said with a smile, raising one hand. ¡°I just want to take a seat and listen, if you don¡¯t mind. Please continue, Bend.¡± I took a seat in a chair near the back. My head still felt light, and my side throbbed worse than the day before, but not so badly that I couldn¡¯t bear it. I pulled out one of Lissa¡¯s pain-absorbing herbs and chewed on it as Bend resumed the story. ¡°After we made it through the wall, and past the guards, we moved through the forest and into town from the north, completely unnoticed,¡± Bend said. ¡°However, we now know that Uof keeps a massive store of water underground?¡ª?a hidden lake. We must spread this information. There may be other cisterns or water stores like it near the city, and we need to find them all if we can.¡± He paused and turned to Dirk. ¡°And here we are. I am glad to be back. What news from the city?¡± ¡°Rumors spread like wildfire,¡± Dirk replied. ¡°Uof is reportedly furious?¡ª?though no one has seen him. Patrols have more than doubled. His forces are tense, fearful, agitated, and ever more violent. We must be careful in all our movements. We are also preparing a small place for us to gather outside the city, just in case we need to abandon this place.¡± He looked around the room, a smile tugging at his lips. ¡°Yet, despite all of that, for the first time in years, I feel a thread of hope winding through the city. People actually seem eager for something to happen. They still will not support us publicly, but if we can fight back, who knows what could happen.¡± ¡°What now?¡± someone asked. Dirk turned to me. ¡°Good question. Yesterday, I woke up grieving my son, uncertain how we would even find more water and supplies. Then you appeared, and everything changed.¡± Everyone turned to me, their eyes filled with expectation. Dirk¡¯s gaze was steady and it locked on me. ¡°So, what next, Mage?¡± I cleared my throat, coughed lightly, and spoke. ¡°I suppose I should introduce myself. You can call me Mage.¡± I scanned the tired, battered, and exhausted faces around me. ¡°As far as I know, I am one of the last mages of The Way of the Mark left alive,¡± I said. ¡°I could be wrong about that, but I know there aren¡¯t many of us left. Most of my kind have been killed or captured over the past number of decades. I haven¡¯t met another in years. I teach spells to those who can learn, and I support resistance against The Motorized wherever I find it. I came from the far side of the world. In my travels, I crossed deserts and sailed polluted, brackish oceans. Yes, they still exist. Once, I knew a mage working on a spell to purify that water somehow, but he is long dead.¡± The room was silent as I continued. ¡°The world is dying. I spent years searching for Vale and Weer, having heard all the stories about this place. I was and am determined to understand The Motorized and their eradication of The Way. Why do they fear us? What is their aim, their goal? How do they do what they do? Their technology has long been beyond us, and we must change that. I hope you can all help me answer some of these questions.¡± Several people nodded solemnly, while others looked down at the dire report. ¡°I came here seeking magekind, others like myself,¡± I said. ¡°I want to rekindle the flames of The Way before it¡¯s too late. I want to see a world where mages are not persecuted, where those who resist The Motorized can do so freely. I know that today, in this place, after all I¡¯ve seen, that¡¯s a naive thing to say. But I don¡¯t care. I¡¯d nearly lost hope?¡ª?until right now, this morning. Against all odds, I found all of you. And I found Bend. Truly, he¡¯s the first mage I¡¯ve met in years. There may be more among you. We shall find out. If so, I will teach you.¡± I let my words settle before adding, ¡°This war will either end in our deaths or in the birth of a new era. There can be no middle ground.¡± The room was silent, stunned. ¡°For now, I will sleep,¡± I said softly. ¡°Tomorrow, bring all of those willing to learn. We begin then.¡± With that, I stood up, nodded to Dirk and Bend, and shuffled back to my bed. Chapter 17: Let It Happen Chapter 17. LET IT HAPPEN After breaking my fast the next morning, I thought about the previous night¡¯s incursion. I hadn¡¯t attempted a head on attack like that in many years¡ªcasting spells one after another a draining precious matter?¡ª?though it had perhaps been a ludicrous move, I¡¯d been desperate. I looked around my small sleeping quarters where I was eating, and I thought of the others of this meager resistance. I needed to help these people. But also, what choice did I have? This is why I was here. If it had gone poorly, it may have been my last chance to find another mage. However, now my body felt sore all over, my head ached, and the worst of my pain centered at the wound just above my hipbone. I hadn¡¯t allowed it time to heal, and that could be problem later. While infiltrating the prison, at one point, I¡¯d narrowly avoided getting stuck by another arrow form a crossbow. I still felt the risk had been worth it to rescue Bend, someone who could carry on The Way. But I needed to be more careful now. I stood up from my small breakfast table slowly, and eased into the next room, the large meeting hall, looking for Dirk or Bend. I hadn¡¯t noticed it before, but a chattering of voices swelled as I pushed open the door and saw that the large room had filled with perhaps fifty or more people?¡ª?in fact, every seat was taken. Some had mugs of coffee?¡ª?others had brought small packs, weapons, and supplies. Dirk sat near the front deep in conversation with another man I didn¡¯t know; his face wearing a look of concern. Bend stood next to Lissa, the healer, talking to her excitedly about something. Bend saw me enter the room, and he moved to give me his chair, his hand brushing Lissa¡¯s arm gently in a gesture of familiarity. A hush fell over the group as I stepped into the room and walked toward the great hearth at the front of the room. My nerves flared, as I considered the difficulty of our task, our truly thin hope, and the long years that had brought me to this moment. I needed this to work. We all needed our next steps to be true. I had to train Bend and find others with the spark, the rare ability to join magekind. If we worked hard, and took our steps carefully, we could rebuild the order of mages. Hoping for more was beyond me at this point. I nodded to Dirk and he stood up and met me at the front of the room. Those in the back of the room whispered to one another. ¡°Everything okay?¡± I asked him in a low voice. ¡°Yes,¡± he said aloud. Then he whispered to me in a softer voice, glancing at the group, his forehead betraying his answer. ¡°We¡¯ve protected this small group of resistance fighters for years. The requirements for entrance into our rebellion are high. It¡¯s why we¡¯re still alive, most of us. They do not trust the new one from the prison, Briar. No one knows him, and he¡¯s not been seen in the city before.¡± I nodded. I¡¯d seen this kind of distrust before. I had to admit, it wasn¡¯t without merit. ¡°I understand,¡± I said. ¡°Unfortunately, he is here now, there is no way to change that. His allegiances will become clear soon enough.¡± Dirk nodded, worry imprinted on his face. ¡°But keep a close eye on him, and we¡¯ll see if he proves trustworthy,¡± I said softly. He nodded then turned back to the group, and I turned to face them. ¡°How shall we start then, Mage?¡± he asked, louder this time, directing the question to me. The group came to attention, quieting again. I looked out at the people in the room, taking a calming breath and letting my eyes rest a little longer on Briar. His thick, knotted hair kept it from his eyes, long though it was. He watched the proceedings carefully, seemingly as suspicious of the Vale rebels as they were of him. ¡°We shall start with a little test,¡± I said, in a measure voice. ¡°I need to know who might possess the spark and who does not. Those of you who are predisposed for the use of magic will learn to use it for survival, to help our resistance, and yes, also for battle and strategy. I have much to teach you.¡± I paused as the whispers and excited voices swelled at that comment. I continued. ¡°Those of you who do not have the spark will be trained in other ways but essentially for the same purposes. My new friends, we¡¯re in a war here in Vale, there is no denying it. And all of you will need to become soldiers to help our efforts.¡± More whispering around the room. Was it excitement? Were they as nervous about this as I was? The spark was somewhat rare and people had it at varying levels, only showing up in one out of every 20 people, five in every hundred, and sometimes the spark was actually hard to recognize until later in life. ¡°First things first,¡± I continued. ¡°Today, Bend and I will meet with each of you individually to test your innate abilities. We will divide into two groups, magically inclined and not. Dirk, we will also need to train a small group of fighters, spies, and first responders who can be our eyes and ears inside and throughout the city. Those soldiers will be yours to command and organize. I will oversee those we discover who can become mages of The Way.¡± I turned to the larger group, ¡°Any questions?¡± A man with bulky arms and rough hands, who looked very much like a hardy blacksmith, coughed and spoke up. ¡°This group is ready to fight for the resistance against Uof, but how can we truly trust everyone in this room?¡± he said, eyeing those around him. Others agreed and some said so out loud. ¡°You can¡¯t,¡± I replied. ¡°Listen, what is before us is more difficult than what is behind us, and I know your lives have all been difficult. We all need to learn to trust each other. You are each taking a risk to be here, and I hope you see that Uof and his gangs of motorized thugs are not what is best for you, or for your families. Do you want to continue to live under Uof¡¯s thumb, barely surviving, on the edge of thirst every day, when he has stores of water under the mountain? If you¡¯re here, now, I give you credit for resisting Uof¡¯s future. On the other hand, if you betray this group, I promise I will deal with you myself, and it will not be quick.¡± I let my words hang in the air. ¡°Now let¡¯s begin,¡± I said after a moment. ¡°Bend and I will meet with you one at a time in the next room, and we¡¯ll start with you.¡± I pointed to the man with bulky arms who looked like a blacksmith, and he grinned broadly through his beard, standing up. Bend and I sat down at a table in the next room and the blacksmith entered and sat down across from us. On the table, I¡¯d placed a pile of rocks ready for use. I grabbed his hand in greeting, and his fingers made mine feel child-sized. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± I asked him, with a friendly grin. ¡°Greer,¡± he said. ¡°I do ironwork here in the city, and Dirk tapped me to make weapons for the resistance. However, I haven¡¯t made much of anything since we began, as we¡¯ve been too busy trying to build bolt holes and tunnels, and recruit new members without getting anyone killed.¡± ¡°I understand,¡± I replied. ¡°Greer, I¡¯m glad to be with you. Has anyone ever tested you in the Way?¡± ¡°Not that I know of,¡± he said. ¡°But listen Mage, I need you to know. I trust each and every one of the folks here. They¡¯ve been with our group for years, all of ¡¯em. Except for this new one, Briar.¡± ¡°I know, Greer,¡± I said. ¡°We will be careful. But we also need men with us and Briar did not stop our escape from the prison block. He¡¯s pledged his allegiance to Dirk and to the resistance. We will take many more risks like this one in the days to come. In war, we must take risks to move ahead. We¡¯ll all have to keep our eyes on him and the other new members who will soon join us. Fair?¡± The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Greer nodded. ¡°Fair enough Mage.¡± ¡°Okay then,¡± I said. ¡°Now, I¡¯m going to start off simple with a spell meant to draw out your own inherent spark. This is the first spell I was taught, and it is the simplest in The Way. Usually, it will only take someone a few minutes to learn how to do this if they have the spark inside them. Understand?¡± He nodded. He seemed uncertain, but I kept my voice calm and even. I always tried to treat this spell like a meditation, allowing the user to feel it and breath through it. ¡°Good,¡± I said. ¡°Now, hold your hands straight out, palms toward the ceiling.¡± He raised up his massive arms, turning palms up. Bend watched curiously. I wondered if this was the way he had been first tested. Every mage had their own ways of testing and often learned different schools of thought on how to draw out the spark in others. I looked Greer in the eyes, speaking calmly. ¡°Hold that form for a moment and seek your own inner spark,¡± I told him. ¡°It might feel like a burning inside you, a tiny core from which you derive power. Find that spark and direct it to your hands. Don¡¯t think about it; just allow it to happen. Yes.¡± Greer nodded again, a little bit unsure. Then he screwed up his eyes and seemed to concentrate. ¡°Find that feeling, that spark, that energy inside yourself. Direct that energy to your hands from inside you. As you do that, simultaneously, I want you to try to tap into The Well. This is the source of all magic in the world. It is outside of you but all around us. Draw on that source with your hands, almost like you are pulling energy down from the sky. You¡¯re doing both things all at once, drawing energy form within and pulling energy from the Well.¡± The bulky man with the burly hands sat there, his arms outstretched, his face a mask of uncertainty as he grappled with this strange task. I watched him as he gritted his teeth for a moment, seeking something, and feeling something happening perhaps. ¡°Can you feel anything yet?¡± I asked him. ¡°It may not make sense at first, and that¡¯s okay, Greer. Don¡¯t try to understand what is happening, just follow your instincts. Let it happen.¡± He nodded, and I saw him relax a bit, his brow un-furrowing. ¡°Good,¡± I said. ¡°Keep directing your own internal spark to your hands, while drawing energy from the source outside yourself. Now, slowly bring your hands toward one another.¡± He looked up at me for a moment. I saw the beginnings of something happening between his hands. I continued. ¡°Now, slowly, turn your palms to face one another. Don¡¯t allow your hands to touch. Build up the energy you¡¯ve been drawing¡ªand force those dual energies toward one another between your hands. I quieted my voice now, as I saw his concentration focus in. Even he could sense now that something was happening, even though he couldn¡¯t see it. He had begun to feel it. His eyes lit up a bit. ¡°In a moment, I will ask you to spark those energies by clapping your hands together, but not yet. Not yet, Greer. Just let it build. Build up those energies and allow them to grow. Feel it happening.¡± Greer held his hands close together, palms facing each other without touching, and as the look of concentration grew on his face, small beads of sweat formed on his forehead. He looked to me once again. ¡°Concentrate on the space between your hands. Don¡¯t watch me,¡± I said gently. I took a small rock from the table and with a quick wave of my hands, I drained its matter into the air. Bend watched me closely. Then I gently whirled the matter into the space between Greer¡¯s hands giving him the final piece he would need to make this simple spell work. ¡°Now, clap your hands together, pushing all the energy you sense into a single moment, a single space in time. Do itnow.¡± Greer stared at the space between his hands for a moment longer. I could tell that the man felt something happening, as he quickly brought his hands together in a large clap. WHAM! A fireball the size of the stump of a tree erupted from Greer¡¯s hands, launching up toward the earthen ceiling in a burst of heat and light and fire. I waved my hands gently and the flames quenched before they reached the ceiling. Greer leaped back in shock, kicking over his chair, his eyes wide. He was breathing hard now, especially after several minutes of intense concentration. ¡°What in the bloody hell?¡± he shouted with a grin. ¡°Did you do that mage?¡± ¡°No, you did that, Greer¡± I said to him with a half-smile. Bend¡¯s eyes went wide as he looked over at me and smiled. He knew what this meant. A shiver thrilled up my spine, making the hair on my arms stand. ¡°Greer, that spell combination is simply meant to create a tiny spark,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s one way that some mages start a fire, or how they might begin a more complicated spell utilizing fire. You drew energy enough for two-thirds of the spell, and I helped you finish it off.¡± ¡°Bloody hell is right,¡± Bend said, in awe. ¡°A fair mage would see a spark the kind you might see between two clashing swords,¡± I said. ¡°Greer, you managed to generate a large ball of fire, which means not only do you have the spark, you will become far more than a fair mage. Judging on what I just saw, you¡¯re one of the most powerful mages I¡¯ve ever come across. Did you know you had the spark?¡± Greer shook his head, a sheepish grin on the big man¡¯s face. ¡°I¡¯ve got a lot to teach you in the coming days,¡± I told him seriously. ¡°Are you ready to learn how to use this gift?¡± The big man looked like a child who¡¯d just discovered a treasure chest. ¡°I am ready,¡± he said with wide excited eyes. ¡°I guess that means I¡¯m going to learn this Way you spoke of earlier?¡± ¡°Greer, you are going to become a mage of The Way of the Mark. And I¡¯ll teach you everything I can to prepare you for the battles to come.¡± Over the course of the day, we tested the rest of the group, including Dirk, who had been tested before by the previous mage who worked with the resistance. Like most of the others, Dirk lacked the spark. I had Bend do the majority of the testing, as I was spent from my spell casting the night before. However, in addition to Greer and Bend, out of the many people who came to us throughout the day, we found four more who possessed the spark at a fair enough level, meaning that each of them was able to generate the small spark I had initially expected to see from Greer. These included Briar, the prisoner with the knotted hair, an outgoing woman named Willow, a longtime veteran fighter of the resistance called Shade, and a teenager called Ehren. As we finished our testing, I nearly pinched myself that I¡¯d found so many people who could become mages in a resistance group this small. I tried to reason it out. There was a decidedly higher concentration of mages in this group than was normally found in the general population. Why? In some ways, the concentration of persecution of The Way here in Vale naturally made for a larger resistance than I¡¯d found elsewhere. But why was the concentration of mages higher? I didn¡¯t know. Perhaps these rebels were somehow descended from others who had followed The Way of the Mark? If so, it could be in their very blood?¡ª?no one actually knew for sure if the gift transferred from parents to children. However it had happened, I was happy to have them with us. Of course, Bend was the most learned, having studied The Way before his first master was captured by Uof¡¯s men. Greer was by far the most powerful of the group, stronger even than myself for the intensity of his spark. Shade was the most adept and best trained warrior of them all. Six potential mages to train, which is more than I¡¯d ever found previously in any group of rebels anywhere in the world. A month ago, I wouldn¡¯t have believed it. I could potentially pass on everything I knew and revive The Way of the Mark itself. Our fighting force, and also our eyes and ears in the city, were to be roughly forty-five men and women strong. Not a fearsome fighting force, but a group that could be focused and deadly with precision tactics. ¡°I will begin training the mages tomorrow,¡± I told Dirk as we sat reviewing the day¡¯s results later that evening. ¡°This is a strong group to start with.¡± ¡°And I will begin drilling the soldiers myself,¡± Dirk replied, his face serious. ¡°I¡¯ll assign a small group to gather supplies and weapons. We¡¯ll all need weapons to use and more places to hide our efforts.¡± ¡°Good. Searches are going to increase and The Motorized will make our lives more difficult than ever before,¡± I said. ¡°Especially as we begin to move out into the city and make our presence felt. So a place outside the city where we can test various spells and tactics would probably be best. I do have a more specific question too: How many men are in Uof¡¯s army?¡± ¡°We believe that he has on the order of one thousand motorized,¡± Dirk said. ¡°But not all of those are trained or disciplined enough to put up much of a fight. His core fighters we believe to be about one hundred strong, but we don¡¯t know for sure. Also, we have additional holes being dug throughout the city as we speak, and my men will increase that effort in earnest. We¡¯re already scouting outside the city too.¡± ¡°We must keep recruiting additional rebels as well,¡± I said. ¡°The more mages and soldiers we can add to our ranks, risky though it is, the better off we¡¯ll be.¡± ¡°We can begin that tomorrow,¡± Dirk said. ¡°Do you really think we have enough manpower to go up against Uof?¡± ¡°No, not yet,¡± I said. ¡°Our mages won¡¯t be ready for weeks, but your army should begin training with weapons as soon as possible. We should lay low after our recent attack on the prison. But we can prepare in earnest.¡± ¡°Of course, Mage,¡± he said. ¡°We also know where most of Uof¡¯s army barracks are located, if we want to target them specifically.¡± ¡°We may not be ready to take on an army directly,¡± I said. ¡°But we can certainly sow chaos in their ranks as we set up bigger plans. Also, do we know where Uof himself is headquartered? I¡¯d love to get eyes on him.¡± ¡°I will set men to scout the northern reaches, higher in the mountains,¡± Dirk said. ¡°For years, we¡¯ve heard tell of Uof living in the high Keep above the city, but as I told you before, no one has seen him in a decade.¡± Some small plans were starting to come together in my mind. Nothing concrete yet, but ideas were forming. ¡°One more thing,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ve long wondered about the motorized weapons themselves. How do they actually work? They appear to be steam-powered, but it also seems clear they also draw on The Well ¡ªas the rarer the weapon, often the stronger it is.¡± ¡°Many of the weapons are unique, different,¡± Bend spoke up, clearly he¡¯d been listening in. ¡°We know that much. This leads me to suspect that somehow it ties into the Law of Commonality.¡± I nodded. ¡°We¡¯ve long suspected a connection of some kind. But every time we tried to break down one of the weapons the inner workings were impossible to discern.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll acquire several of The Motorized weapons and tools so we can test them out and inspect them more closely,¡± Dirk said. ¡°Good,¡± I replied. ¡°Tomorrow we begin the real training.¡± Chapter 18: We Fight Back Starting Now Chapter 18. WE FIGHT BACK STARTING NOW ¡°The Well is the source of all magic in the world,¡± I said slowly, looking into the eyes of the six future mages sitting before me. The six of them sat at a long table, and I sat across from them. We were ensconced in a small room deep in the ground, hidden behind numerous secreted doors and down long passages and hidden doors. We were as far down one could get, deep inside the city of the Vale. ¡°The power of The Well is required to make any kind of magic happen. We know the spells of The Way of the Mark, and we suspect even The Motorized, draw on this source of power, though we¡¯re not sure how they do it. Not yet. We¡¯ll need to investigate that further. The Well itself is often described to be a finite pool of energy, though that¡¯s not exactly true either. I will clarify momentarily.¡± ¡°Have any of you heard the stories of Aiden and his band of Spellcasters?¡± I asked. Bend nodded, while the other five shook their heads. ¡°This group of mages earned legendary status within the ranks of The Way. Like many mages, they helped those in need and fought off bandits, but they also managed to pull off a series of miraculous stunts that became the stuff of stories and songs. Some of these exploits might be exaggerated in the stories I heard, we¡¯re not entirely sure. When I first trained our library keepers told me about a time they once transported an entire army a hundred miles in an instant.Aiden¡¯s Spellcasters also reportedly fought off giants, battled leviathans of the deep oceans, and even cast a collective spell, that is a spell cast as a group, that turned whole enemy armies to stone. In some stories, these Spellcasters could also jump into a place called the Ether dimension, a place outside of time on an entirely different plane.¡± The soon-to-be mages chuckled, thinking these stories simply tall tales. ¡°Our records are clear: these mages were amongst the most powerful of all of recorded history. Sadly, these exploits require skills we don¡¯t understand today,¡± I said. Bend eyes glistened. I saw there a deep desire, a hope. And I knew that look?¡ª?I myself had worn it once, and I¡¯d seen it on other faces in the past. Bend wanted to make feats like those of legend, real in the world again. ¡°These stories may be exaggerated, but they¡¯re based actual events,¡± I said. ¡°Aiden and his Spellcasters performed valiant acts worthy of sharing for generations in campfire stories. You have the chance today to become just as powerful as they once were. I tell you this not to fill your head full of tall tales, but to remind you that the stakes are high. There really are monsters and leviathans and other evils that must be defeated. Once you begin walking the path of The Way, danger will find you. It is inevitable.¡± The four men and two women listened carefully, some scribbling notes on small scraps of parchment, soaking up every word. ¡°Before I teach you the tenets of The Way itself, simple though they are, let¡¯s begin with the basics of spell casting,¡± I said, changing my approach. ¡°Every spell draws on three sources of energy: The Well itself, which is all around us, your own internal magical spark, and the energy of some kind of matter. Those three sources of energy together help determine the power and scale of your spell. The combining of the three will become second nature to you with practice, and in principle, you can do nearly anything, provided you understand the mechanics. Every spell also requires a trigger of some kind: Usually, the trigger will be the words of the spell, hand gestures, or a movement from the caster, or a combination of these things.¡± ¡°Finally, there are two laws with which you will become intimately familiar. First, all magic use is subject to a rule known as The Law of Commonality. The law says this: the more common a spell, the less powerful it will be in its use. In other words, the more mages who know a particular spell, and use it, the less powerful it will be. Therefore, keeping spells to yourself is actually an advantage for us. For this reason, the passing of spells between a master and an apprentice is a sacred trust, and a common practice. Since just about all the mages in the world are dead and gone, this means that each spell I will teach you will be more powerful today than they will be five years from today, when your apprentices also know the spell. Does that make sense?¡± My new apprentices nodded, and I heard the sound of scratching quills on parchment as they copied this down. I repeated The Law of Commonality for those taking notes. ¡°The second law you must learn and understand is called The Scale of Rarity. The Scale of Rarity says this: the rarer the matter you use in your casting, the more powerful it will be in your spells. Gold will create a more powerful spell than common sand. I will draw up a chart that shows you the general Scale of Rarity later today.¡± Bend raised his hand. ¡°These two laws seem to be related,¡± he said. ¡°I asked my previous master how and why they were connected¡ªbut he didn¡¯t know.¡± I nodded in reply. ¡°Clearly, these two laws are connected, with rarity lending power in both cases,¡± I said. ¡°This relationship has fascinated scholars for centuries though no one really knows exactly why this is the case.¡± I cleared my throat and looked around the room, then continued. ¡°There are nuances to these laws as well,¡± I continued. ¡°For example, the weaker a spell gets the less another mage knowing the spell will actually affect its weakness. It¡¯s a curve. Let us say that one thousand mages have knowledge of a spell, which significantly weakens the spell. If two thousand mages know the spell, it will still continue to weaken, but it will decrease in strength slower the more mages know it. Make sense? Any questions?¡± Willow called out her question. ¡°Mage, can you show us an example of these laws with a spell?¡± ¡°Of course,¡± I turned to my pack and pulled out my cup, and a small rock. ¡°When I used to cast my longtime water spell, ten years ago, I could take a small rock of roughly this size, and fill half of this cup with water, thus.¡± I held up the small rock in my hand. In my other hand, I hefted my old, battered cup, which I¡¯d had for many years. ¡°With far fewer mages now in the world, here¡¯s what happens today.¡± I waved my hands, whispered several words under my breath, and drained the small rock of its matter. The rock disappeared from my palm. I heard a couple of gasps from the room. Some of them had never seen magic of The Way in their entire lives, living in a culture dominated by the Motorized. I completed the spell, transferring the matter to the cup, which suddenly overflowed with water, some of which spilled out onto the floor. ¡°Do you see the difference?¡± I asked. ¡°This is much more water than this spell would conjure in the past. What is the law that determined this result?¡± Bend raised his hand. ¡°There are fewer mages alive who knows the spell, so the spell has more power today than before. So, The Law of Commonality.¡± ¡°Good. That is the basic principle. Now watch.¡± I pulled out a small piece of steel, about the same size as the small rock I held in my palm before. ¡°This is a piece of steel, about the same size as the rock. But other than that, this is exactly the same spell.¡± I pulled out an empty pitcher perhaps four times the size of the cup. Then, once again, I drained the piece of steel of its matter and it puffed into thin air?¡ª?gone. No gasps from the room this time. I wove the spell again, directing the matter into the pitcher. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. The instant I completed the spell, the pitcher was full of clear water, and again, it filled up so full that it spilled out onto the floor. ¡°Why did this happen? Which law is at work?¡± I asked. Greer cleared his throat and spoke in a gruff voice, ¡°Both laws are at work here Mage. The Scale of Rarity because the steel is a rarer kind of matter than a piece of common granite, making the spell more powerful. But also, The Law of Commonality is work¡¯n because fewer mages know this spell, so the spell itself is more powerful than it once¡¯n was.¡± ¡°That is correct,¡± I said. ¡°Now, any piece of matter can be used, even an alloy like steel. However, that brings up some simple rules you must know. First, there is one element that cannot and should not be used in spellcasting and that is blood, human or animal. It is absolutely banned by the Way as the Keepers of the histories tell us that spells using blood lead to madness. You should also know this: the Way also outlaws the use of any other part of the human body to cast a spell.¡± Shade raised her arm. ¡°How does one create a completely new spell?¡± ¡°Ah, good question Shade,¡± I replied. ¡°The creation of a new spell is another sacred process of The Way. It is the primary way we keep our casting fresh and uncommon, and therefore, powerful. In fact, there are almost infinite ways to create new spells, and there are multiple spells that exist to do some of the same things. But it takes time, practice, and determination to create them anew. Why do you ask Shade?¡± ¡°I have some interest in this process,¡± Shade replied. ¡°I don¡¯t know why but I have long suspected I had the spark. I¡¯m drawn to the idea of creating spells and imbuing objects with magical power. I don¡¯t exactly understand why, Mage.¡± ¡°I can teach you, Shade,¡± I said with a smile. ¡°We will get to it. But for today, let¡¯s all practice that very basic water spell. With water so scarce in the midst of our decades long drought, this is a critical survival spell for each of you to learn and know.¡± Bend cast the spell first, and filled up the cup immediately. It turned out that he also knew a different spell to generate water using a completely different motion of his arms and wholly different words, and his spellcasting was flawless. Briar and Willow took some time to learn both water spells, as this was their first exposure to spellcasting. Willow was quick to try the spell and after seven or eight tries, she began to get the knack. Bend worked with both of them to master the spell, while I worked with the others. Greer picked up the spell up quickly after a couple of tries, and with his internal spark so strong, not only did he learn faster than the others, but his spells were naturally more powerful and aggressive. Shade learned the spell on her third try and pressed right away for more information. This too was her first spell, but just knowing she had the spark had opened up a new world to her. She wanted to know more as soon as possible. Ehren, the quiet teenager, had an intensity in his eyes that betrayed what appeared an iron will. Despite the intensity, Ehren was quick to smile in his youth, and he was clearly beloved by Dirk, Bend, and the others in the resistance. They doted him like a beloved younger cousin. After an hour or so, each mage managed to produce the spell, however roughly, and for four of them, it was their very first spell cast. Already we saw a minute lessening of the power of the water spell just by their knowing how to perform it. I gathered them all together again. The young mages chittered and talked excitedly?¡ª?sharing their experiences with one another. Seeing the thrill they felt, I recalled the day I began my own training when I was just twelve years of age. I¡¯d been tested by a mage traveling through our small hometown, and after determining I had the spark, he invited me to travel with him back to the Grand Library of The Way of the Mark. It was on that journey that I first learned to cast this very water spell. I smiled to myself as warm memories washed over me. I hadn¡¯t thought of this particular mage or the Grand Library in many years. ¡°Well done, all of you,¡± I said when they¡¯d all sat back down. ¡°Most of us learned it in three tries too,¡± Briar cracked, smiling at his own lack of initial fluency with spellcraft. I smiled. ¡°It will come with time for all of you. Any questions?¡± ¡°Mage, why are there not more like us in the world?¡± Bend asked. ¡°Is there not a school or central association of mages located somewhere on the other side of the world?¡± I watched Bend as he asked this question, then looked at the group. They were all suddenly curious and hopeful. ¡°Growing up in Vale, you know about the persecution of magekind that exists here,¡± I said. ¡°Around four decades ago, the persecution that began here in Vale spread all across the known world. Vale¡¯s motorized forces sought out any concentration of mages in the world and fought them. After a time, they couldn¡¯t even fight back, so the Motorized simply eradicated them. It began slowly and grew over time, and eventually The Motorized killed mages everywhere they went. It¡¯s uncanny that they knew where to look and that The Motorized could kill mages in such a swift order. Those of The Way of the Mark were strong, but they didn¡¯t realize the significance of the danger until it was too late. I don¡¯t know how many are left?¡ª?and I fear I am one of the last.¡± The room went quiet, somber. ¡°This is why I am here,¡± I said. ¡°All of you need to know how serious it is to train in The Way. You are already breaking the laws of Vale by doing this, sitting here in this room, with me. But most importantly, you are now part of a select company?¡ª?as there are very few mages left. Those who remained retreated to the wild, became hermits, and abandoned being a part of mankind. However, my slim hope is that The Motorized have become complacent as mages of The Way once were.¡± ¡°How did you survive then, Mage,¡± Willow asked. ¡°For many years, I lived in a small mountain hamlet on the other side of the world. It was far from here, and far away from any cities, settlements, or villages. So, by the time the Motorized came to us, there were almost no mages left. Those loyal to the Way had been killed before I knew it was happening at the level it was. I began searching for those of The Way, and came across a desolation¡ªthe Motorized had razed our entire order.¡± ¡°Mage, the Motorized are a scourge on our city, and the world,¡± Greer growled. I nodded, taking a beat to breath deep and slow. ¡°This is a good transition,¡± I said. ¡°Before we train anymore, I want to teach all of you the simple tenets of The Way of the Mark. If you are to pass on what I teach you, you must know these things. Get out your parchment.¡± The young mages took out nubs of charcoal and more of the parchment we¡¯d handed out earlier. ¡°Tenet number one: honor others of The Way,¡± I said. ¡°And when you meet another member of The Way, always share a single spell in greeting. This builds trust and camaraderie among mages.¡± They scribbled carefully. A thrill went up my spine. This was the first tenet I learned when training with a series of mentors at the academy where I¡¯d first learned the nuances of spellcraft.¡± ¡°Tenet number two: keep the histories and pass them on to your apprentices,¡± I said. ¡°Share the stories of mages past in order to protect yourself from The Weakness.¡± ¡°The Weakness?¡± Willow asked as she scribbled down the second tenet. ¡°Yes,¡± I said carefully. ¡°This tenet is difficult because knowledge of The Weakness has been lost over the centuries. Today we know that there is a Weakness, and I¡¯ve heard and read many theories about what it might be. Studying the stories, which I will share with all of you, can yield us a few hints. But some of the histories have been tainted, or rewritten, or lost over the years. We will discuss this again.¡± Bend, wrote all of this down, while Briar studied my face, a curious look in his eyes. ¡°You have a question?¡± ¡°So, there is a side effect to performing spells, some kind of damage done to mages? And because some of us just started performing spells, we may already be susceptible to it, or damaged by it, whatever it is?¡± ¡°That¡¯s right Briar,¡± I said, turning this to the whole group. ¡°Let¡¯s consider this an investigation we¡¯re all involved in together. We must hunt for The Weakness every day.¡± Briar nodded, sobered, jotting down more notes on his parchment. ¡°Tenet number three we¡¯ve already talked about: Mages of the Way can use any substance or matter to form a spell except blood. Human or animal blood. It is forbidden. And it is also forbidden to use the matter of a human body to form a spell.¡± They wrote it down. ¡°Finally, tenet number four is simple: protect the Innocent. Use the Way for defense, not for offense unless innocents are threatened.¡± ¡°But I thought you were a battle mage?¡± Shade asked. I had shown all six mages the tattoo on my chest, and explained what I could about each of the four symbols in the shield. ¡°I am. I was trained to use spellcraft to fight,¡± I replied. ¡°However, I should seek to use it to defend myself or to defend the innocent. Like all of you, and the people of this city. This tenet is often misunderstood, and perhaps that¡¯s one reason mages were all but killed off by The Motorized. They were too slow to fight back. Sometimes, fighting back against tyranny is defending the innocent.¡± ¡°I understand that, Mage,¡± Shade said. ¡°But are any restrictions to the kinds of offensive spells we can create?¡± ¡°Not necessarily,¡± I replied. ¡°This is more of a norm than a hard and fast rule. The Way has long been a defensive art form, a practice that preferred to help those in need over attacking one another. But with enough imagination, and a larger mission against enemies presenting a threat, we can create almost unlimited useful battle spells.¡± Willow nodded. ¡°Everybody ready to try some more spells?¡± We moved into the next room one after another. I stood to follow them but noticed Bend still sitting down, looking down at his hands. ¡°Bend?¡± He looked up, tears glistening in eyes. ¡°Mage.¡± ¡°You okay?¡± ¡°I just wanted to say thank you,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯d lost all hope that I would ever complete my training, or that Uof would ever face another foe of The Way. Until now.¡± He stood up slowly, wiping his eyes. ¡°Thank you Bend,¡± I said. ¡°I was at an end myself¡ª I don¡¯t think I would have lasted another week without all of you.¡± I stuck out my gloved hand. Bend grabbed it and shook it firmly. ¡°Let¡¯s take them down Mage,¡± he said, grit in his voice. ¡°The Motorized have oppressed this city, and so many others in this world, for long enough.¡± ¡°We fight back starting now,¡± I replied. Bend grabbed me in a hug, wiped his eyes once more, and steeled his face. ¡°Starting now.¡± Chapter 19: Lightning Is Dramatic Chapter 19. LIGHTNING IS DRAMATIC The next morning Bend spent time working with Shade, Ehren, Willow, and Briar, to practice simple spell casting techniques and teach them several of his own survival spells, while I worked one-on-one with Greer. I couldn¡¯t help but get a little bit excited when I thought about Greer¡¯s potential. Not only was he going to be a mage with powerful potential, he was also a blacksmith, which could help us imbue weapons with additional magical power. Fear fluttered inside me, nonetheless. There hadn¡¯t been a banding together of this many mages in years?¡ª?could this be the beginning of something? I tried not to think about it, or put pressure on this moment or these people. Instead, in my mind, I sorted each of the young mages into different possible areas of emphasis. My own areas of emphases were the Sword, which connoted battle spells, though they were largely defensive in nature; the Book represented history, ancient languages, and scholarly study; the Sword over the Map which symbolized war strategy and tactics, as well as some mapmaking and geography; and the Water Drop, which covered everything to do with spells relating to water ¡ªcreating it, using it, finding it¡ª and also included using water to power spells, and strangely, even steam power. In this group of six, I had a potential Battle Mage and Smithing Mage in Greer, a possible Crafter in Shade, and from our early discussions, Willow seemed ready to pursue study in Knowledge, History, as well as the gathering and storage of spells. Already, I could see Bend had the gifts of a Teacher and a Leader as well. We would see where the others found their interests and skills developing over time. Greer and I stood out in the desert some miles south of Vale itself, at a location far enough away that no one would hear us if we made a ruckus. With his innate potential so great, we would need some space to stretch ourselves and destroy some things. We left before the sun rose, while it was still dark, and walked through many tunnels and passages until we slipped into the outer city of Vale. From there, Greer and I walked far to the south of the city until we were out of sight, and I believed, out of earshot. I led us until we found a long depression rutted into the ground, which also held a small rock field, including several larger boulders that stood all around us. We stopped and put down our packs, as fine dust blew across the plains, stinging sharply on my skin. We both performed a water spell and took a short break. As I looked around, it occurred to me this depression must have once been a river, in order to deposit so many varied rocks all in one place. ¡°Greer, we¡¯re out here today because I want to train you in a few battle spells, focused on both attack and defense,¡± I said gesturing to the desert around us. ¡°Most of these spells can be dangerous and loud in operation, which is why I wanted us so far from the city.¡± Then, I peeled open my tunic so he could see the tattoo on my chest. ¡°This is the tattoo of The Way of the Mark,¡± I said. ¡°And this symbol of a sword represents my training emphasis in the magical arts of battle and defensive, or reactive, war.¡± ¡°Will I get a tattoo such as this?¡± Greer smiled, as he looked curiously over the four quadrants of the shield-shaped mark on my chest. ¡°Yes, we will make sure to mark you soon enough,¡± I said. ¡°But before we get started, I must ask: do you have any problem using your spellcraft to fight The Motorized?¡± His face grew steely and intense in an instant. ¡°The Motorized attacked my mother when she was young, injuring her knee in a way that never healed,¡± he growled through his considerable beard. ¡°She walked with pain her whole life because of the injury they left her. Those thugs in Vale leave me alone because I forge tools and weapons for them, but they have oppressed our people long enough.¡± ¡°I have a similar story,¡± I replied. ¡°For today, we have little time. So, let us start with one simple spell and see if my suspicions about your abilities are correct.¡± Greer nodded, and I cleared my throat, bringing out a couple of small semi-precious gemstones and pieces of ivory that had been scrounged in the past few days. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. ¡°The Way emphasizes several principles in battle,¡± I said. ¡°We protect the innocent. We always seek peace until battle is impossible to avoid. When it comes time to do battle, we use an attacker¡¯s own power against them, when we can. As a last resort, in order to defend ourselves, we use whatever means necessary, keeping the other three ideas in mind. Typically, I would start training a Battle Mage slowly and by learning defensive strategies and spells. However, The Motorized are already hunting for us and we must learn quickly, so I¡¯m going to break that tradition.¡± ¡°I understand,¡± Greer said. ¡°This in itself is a form of defense against what is coming.¡± ¡°Yes, exactly,¡± I replied. ¡°So, let us begin with a spell that conjures a semblance of lightning and thunder. We should always keep in mind that one part of a battle is the actual damage your attacks can cause an enemy, but another part of a battle is exerting a dramatic effect.¡± ¡°Lightning is dramatic,¡± Greer noted. ¡°It sure is,¡± I said. ¡°Creating a bit of theater can serve to demoralize and drive fear into the hearts of those we have not yet engaged, both those you are fighting and those who are watching. Our numbers are much smaller than the Motorized. So we need every advantage we can get. Stand back.¡± Greer took three steps back, and furrowed his brow while staring at my hands. I took a step toward a large boulder standing on the desert floor about twenty feet front of me. First, I drained the matter of a single small rare semi-precious gemstone in my open palm, and its matter winked away in a flash. Immediately, I performed another weave, bringing my arms into the air and dropping my hands down in swift movement, transforming the matter into another form entirely. Finally, I brought my hands together and pushed forward, as if shoving away an enemy, while muttering the trigger word. CRACK! Suddenly, a jagged flash of lightning erupted into existence above us and drove down into the boulder before me, accompanied by a thundering roar. The sound echoed across the desert and reverberated for miles. The light of the strike flashed so intensely I was forced to close my eyes, and the strike hit with such force that my ears rang for a few minutes after. The large boulder before me, once half as tall as a man, had become a charred and smoking mass of rubble. Greer stared at me, his eyes wide as the pulleys on a steam engine. ¡°Such power,¡± he mumbled to himself as he looked at the rubble. He noticed me looking at him. ¡°The Motorized will rue the day they attacked my mother.¡± ¡°You will be able to do even more than this, Greer,¡± I said. Then, I walked him through the forms of the spell, slowly, painstakingly showing him each individual movement, having him repeat each one, and finally, saying the trigger word. Some of our order used to train in hand-to-hand fighting, and they would carefully memorize the forms of each defensive and offensive stance, practicing the punches, the kicks. They grew so adept at these stances and forms, that they began to look like a choreographed dance. Learning a new spell was the same. Often mages would run through their most relied upon spells, one after another, training their bodies to remember these movements through gentle and consistent repetition. Spell form training became routine only through focused, regular work, and lots of practice. After I showed Greer the forms, and he tried to follow my lead, he began to catch on¡ªand I saw, for a muscly guy, he was surprisingly agile. Greer ran through the series of forms a dozen times, ending with the trigger word, until he had broken a sweat. But he picked it up quickly. After his last time through the spell, he looked at me as he finished, out of breath but excited. I nodded and handed him a small piece of ivory. ¡°Start with this and practice the spell on that boulder there,¡± I said, gesturing to a much smaller boulder the size of a large rodent. Then I walked him through the weave one more time. ¡°Do you know it?¡± I asked. ¡°Yes, I think so,¡± he said with a nod, stepping forward. Greer focused his attention first on draining the ivory of its matter. The draining was always the same in every spell, and therefore easier to remember. He drained the chunk of ivory with the moves we¡¯d practiced only yesterday. Though it took a few seconds longer, eventually the ivory piece winked away. With the matter now hovering in the air before him, Greer began to weave it into a new form. Slowly and carefully, he stepped through the simple forms of the spell, building the matter up, weaving it into something intricate and dangerous?¡ª?and as he did this, I sensed his own internal spark lending the spell significant power. As I watched I felt the awe and wonder that initially attracted me to The Way and everything it could do. Here, now, training another to use this craft in the way that I¡¯d learned it, a feeling of peace settled over me, a foreign feeling I¡¯d not felt for many years. Greer was thorough and meticulous in his movements and it paid off when he spoke the trigger word for the spell. CRACK! A jagged lightning strike hammered into the smaller rock, accompanied instantly by roaring thunder, similar to what I¡¯d launched only moments earlier. The strike itself stunned me. It was smaller than my own lightning spell, but only by degrees. This was especially shocking when compared to the strike I¡¯d managed with a gemstone, a rarer piece of matter than ivory, by a large margin. The rock itself vaporized, splitting into hundreds, thousands of tiny shards now spread all across the plain. ¡°Greer, with enough training, I think you may become one of the powerful mages I¡¯ve ever met,¡± I said with a smile and a clap on his back. He grinned at first, his eyes shining with the same awe and wonder I¡¯d felt years before. I could tell he felt the thrill that came with casting a spell. Then he turned serious. ¡°Uof and The Motorized will regret their evils, I promise you that,¡± he replied. Chapter 20: Artifacts & Talismans Chapter 20. ARTIFACTS & TALISMANS Over the next few weeks, I spent all of my waking hours with the new mages. They each needed to learn basic spells and practice them each and every day so that the simplest motions and movements became second nature. I spent time with each of them individually and worked on areas of emphasis as they discovered both what they did well, and what they actually wanted to study. I spent most of my time with Bend, talking with him about training and leadership and mage craft, and he became the de facto trainer for the others when I spent time alone teaching one mage. Bend progressed quickly in learning new spells too, though it had been some time since he¡¯d last trained seriously. He set out to learn a multiplicity of disciplines and took on dozens of new spells quickly. I also asked Dirk for some specific supplies and took time over a couple of these days to sew together a Mage¡¯s Book for each of them. These small leather-wrapped books consisted of a thick stack of hand-stitched parchment, which would be an invaluable resource where they could keep all their notes on The Way of the Mark, their areas of emphasis, and details on each spell they had learned. I kept my own Mage¡¯s Book of course, which had been sewn by a mentor many decades before. These days it was incredibly worn and full of notes on spells from decades of mage craft. I guarded it with my life as it was one of the most prized possessions of any adept mage. I also had in my possession three other Mage¡¯s Books from friends and mages I¡¯d trained with or met in years past. This was a sacred trust to keep another mage¡¯s book as they passed along their learnings at the end of their lives. Dirk¡¯s small force of rebel warriors began to grow as word spread throughout Vale. While this was encouraging, the danger increased exponentially as more people learned about us and the return of The Way. Every day we heard about another shop closed down or merchants who were harassed for no reason, as thugs patrolled the city and sought out information about me or the rebellion. They jailed suspected rebels on sight, and the prisons swelled with captives as a result. Uof also imposed a curfew over the city, forcing people to stay behind closed doors after dusk. We started training so often out in the desert, and so far from the city itself, Dirk and his men built a small outpost five miles south and east of the city. A place we could train, sleep, and prepare. The squat building sat hidden in a valley, which offered the additional cover of a small stand of bare trees. It was just a small house where we kept a weapons cache, some rare matter, and other supplies. This made our training easier and allowed us to perform incredibly destructive spells without worrying about who might hear them. In addition, we could train past the curfew and stay away from the city as we worked. After one particularly long day of hard training, Shade and I sat down to talk about crafting magical artifacts and new spells from scratch. I sat on a cut log next to a small popping fire, and she sat across from me on another log. The others talked and ate around a much larger fire on the other side of the outpost. ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking about creating new spells, and I realized, if it¡¯s new, no one else will know the spell,¡± she said. ¡°So, it¡¯s use has a chance to catch an enemy by surprise.¡± ¡°Yes, that¡¯s true,¡± I replied. ¡°Also, as you would suspect, a spell is at its most powerful just after it is first created, because no one else in the world knows it.¡± She scratched notes in her Mage¡¯s Book, then looked up and asked me a question. ¡°Do you have any spells that you¡¯ve never shared with anyone?¡± ¡°A few, yes,¡± I said. ¡°But I¡¯m sharing as much with all of you as I can now?¡ª?and I don¡¯t intend to hold anything back. We need every advantage we can get in this fight. However, once you learn the process, I think it would be prudent to create several spells just for your own use.¡± She nodded and wrote this down. ¡°However, today Dirk¡¯s men need some more powerful weapons,¡± I said, shifting my sitting position slightly so as not aggravate the old wound in my side. I hadn¡¯t agitated it too much in recent weeks, so it was starting to heal. ¡°So, instead, we¡¯re going to create weapons imbued with magic.¡± The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Aren¡¯t these called talismans?¡± she asked. ¡°I suppose any magical artifact or weapon can be described commonly as a that way,¡± I said. ¡°However, the famed mages you¡¯ve heard about each had many magical artifacts, but only one talisman. Their talisman was their most powerful weapon or most relied upon artifact. For example, you remember Aiden and his¡­¡± ¡°His Ring of Healing!¡± she replied with glee. ¡°I thought that was just a fable.¡± ¡°No!¡± I said. ¡°Aiden was a real mage, and he was known to use many magical artifacts. But it was the Ring of Healing that became synonymous with Aiden himself. That ring was his talisman and he relied on it in so many difficult moments.¡± ¡°Like when he walked the 1,000-Mile Desert and survived?¡± Shade said. ¡°The story I heard Shade, is that he set out to rescue a young mage who¡¯d gotten lost in the 1,000 Mile Desert, and Aiden¡¯s ring kept refilling his health when he couldn¡¯t find water.¡± ¡°Amazing. Well, what about you?¡± Shade asked. ¡°What about me?¡± ¡°Do you have any magical artifacts?¡± she asked. ¡°And which one is your talisman?¡± ¡°I will show you the artifacts I carry,¡± I said. I drew my pack from the ground nearby. From within it, I pulled out a small dagger in an ordinary leather sheath. I unsheathed the dagger and its blade gleamed in the darkness, there was a single dark quartz crystal embedded in the hilt, the blade narrow and sharp. ¡°It¡¯s an ordinary dagger,¡± Shade said, clearly unimpressed. ¡°It certainly looks that way, and actually, that¡¯s by design,¡± I replied. ¡°This dagger bestows on me an added degree of stealth. I only need to carry it in my pack or on my belt and it helps me to slip in and out of so many situations more easily.¡± ¡°So, what¡¯s your talisman?¡± she asked. I shrugged. ¡°I have a necklace that helps me when navigating, and a metal rod that I can use to find water,¡± I rolled up my sleeve revealing a bracer on my right wrist. ¡°This leather bracer glows in the dark, but nothing so powerful that I would consider it my talisman.¡± ¡°We should create you a talisman, Mage,¡± Shade said with some level of determination. ¡°You know, there will be stories and songs about you.¡± ¡°Perhaps,¡± I said, moving on to the process. ¡°It just so happens, I¡¯ve been thinking on an idea for a new artifact.¡± Shade cocked her head to side, curious. ¡°Shade, the basic idea when creating artifacts is to funnel some of the power of The Source of All Magic, as well as some of your own innate power, into a static artifact and give it a clear purpose and intent. Point this magic in a particular direction.¡± I brought forth my staff, which I¡¯d had with me for many years. I also drew out a steel staff head I¡¯d had one of the men acquire for me in Vale recently. The piece of steel had been shaped into a metallic bird, a dove frozen just as it was getting ready to fly, its wings thrust out wide on either side. The dove¡¯s clawed feet perched atop a rock¡ªthe bottom of which would fit nicely atop my staff. ¡°I¡¯ve had an idea for a particular magical artifact for years, actually,¡± I said, showing Shade the bird. ¡°This bird is a simple piece of metal meant to be a decorative head on a staff. But what I want to create is a repository, a place to store up matter once it¡¯s been drained so its there and available for use later. Then, I can perform many spells more quickly, or one spell more powerfully, all at once.¡± Shade nodded, getting excited. ¡°So, you can go into battle with a full store of matter ready for use, already drained?¡± ¡°Exactly,¡± I said. She nodded as I handed her the metallic dove. ¡°So, this is just an ordinary piece of steel right now?¡± ¡°Right,¡± I replied. ¡°Now write down the spells I perform in order, as well as the movements, because whether you¡¯re creating a sword that spits fire, or a crossbow that shoots magically poisonous arrows, the principles of creating artifacts are the same.¡± I began the long process by casting an opening spell to lay the groundwork for the staff¡¯s head allowing it to receive power from The Well. I then cast a second spell allowing the bird to receive power from me, and only me. Artifacts were usually attuned to one mage. More spells followed. Each spell layered onto the artifact power, then purpose, then more power. Shade followed every movement, every piece of matter drained, every spell cast, taking careful notes along the way as I talked her through each step. The entire process took four hours of hard work, spellcasting, and focus. After I cast the final spell, I took up a hammer and pounded the piece of steel onto the head of the staff, locking it into place. When I declared it complete, I drained a nearby rock of its matter and sent it into the Dove, my new Matter Repository, and then drew on the matter again to cast a simple spell that stoked up the fire. Shade¡¯s eyes went wide. ¡°How much matter can you store?¡± ¡°It should be able to hold matter equal to several rare gemstones and gold pieces,¡± I replied. ¡°It¡¯s not infinite, but it will save me invaluable time in a battle.¡± ¡°Your talisman,¡± she whispered, almost to herself, her eyes going wide. ¡°The Last Mage and his Staff of Matter.¡± I smiled. ¡°Shade, do you think you can follow the steps,¡± I pointed at a small pile of swords, pikes, and clubs on the ground nearby. ¡°Now, we must imbue these weapons with magic that will help our fighters in the battles ahead, especially against soldiers who will be using motorized weapons. Let¡¯s see how many of these we can finish before we get some sleep.¡± Shade grinned and immediately went to the pile of weapons, taking up a sword that she brought back to the fire. Chapter 21: The Factory Chapter 21. THE FACTORY Over the next few weeks, I drilled the mages in the basic spells they would use most often. In the process, I myself became sharper, rediscovering forgotten spells from the past, and practicing my spell craft. I taught all of them some of what I knew of the arts of battle, defensive and otherwise. Every mage needed to learn and know important core spells and become so comfortable using them that the casting is second nature. Beyond that, we made sure each of us specialized. In addition to some core spells, each mage needed to command a set of spells that only they knew. I spent many afternoons working with Greer and honing his large-scale battle casting, and with Shade outlining the basics of both spell generation, which she picked up swiftly, and the creation of artifacts. Bend got an earful of additional instruction in strategy and leadership, both of which were emphases of The Way that would be incredibly powerful in their own right. Late one night after a long day of casting and drilling, Dirk, Bend, and I had moved into our outpost, and unrolled a map on the large table in the room. It was a detailed map of the city of Vale, and I studied it carefully. This was the first time I¡¯d actually seen an accurate and carefully drawn map of the city itself. Though I¡¯d been in the city now for many weeks, most of the time I sneaked into or out of the city, trying not to appear suspicious at least, and not seen at all at best. So, I hadn¡¯t had much time to study the layout of Vale. On the map, the city sat protected in a cleft between two arms of the foothills below the Broken Mountains, its long, semi-circular wall protecting the city facing East. Outside the wall, the outer city and slums scattered out into the plains. Inside the wall, I saw four distinct keeps. The Prison Keep where I¡¯d found Bend being held prisoner, was along the Northern wall of the city. Another Keep sat near the front gate on the eastern side of the city, just inside the wall. Two other Keeps spread out in the city forming a diamond shape between all four keeps. We suspected that one of the other keeps served as barracks for Vale¡¯s army. The city itself formed a triangular shape with the outer wall forming the longest side of the triangle. Opposite the outer wall, to the West, at the highest point of the city up into the mountains, stood a short, imposing inner wall. No one inside the resistance knew what sat on the other side of this inner wall, but most of us speculated that, essentially, Uof situated himself beyond this wall. ¡°My men have scoured the city for information,¡± Dirk said, as we traced the line of the inner wall on the map. ¡°Based on rumor alone, not intelligence gleaned by our own eyes, we believe Uof sits in a fifth keep of his own further up the mountain. Based on soldiers we¡¯ve overhead speaking in nearby pubs, we think there may be an army stationed up there, as well as another building, sometimes referred to as ¡°The Factory,¡± beyond the inner wall. Our best guess is that this is where Uof crafts his steam-powered weapons.¡± ¡°Okay, if this ¡®Factory¡¯ exists, then it¡¯s the crux of Uof¡¯s strength,¡± I replied, looking at the open space on the map where we suspected this building might be. ¡°We will need to get eyes on it.¡± ¡°Of course,¡± Dirk said. ¡°We¡¯ve heard about this factory for years, but no one has ever seen it. I set several of my men near the inner wall to watch these past few days, and we¡¯ve seen a large number of Motorized, both mor organized soldiers and greasy thugs, moving in and out of the inner wall. All that we can deduce is that whatever is beyond the wall is heavily guarded.¡± I nodded. ¡°But no one has seen beyond the wall with their own eyes?¡± ¡°No one has ever gone beyond the inner wall and returned,¡± Dirk replied. ¡°The mage who trained me went to scout beyond the inner wall,¡± Bend said, swallowing hard. ¡°When he didn¡¯t return, we suspected he¡¯d been killed. Somehow, they learned about me and imprisoned me a few weeks later.¡± ¡°He went over the inner wall by himself?¡± I asked. ¡°Yes,¡± Bend said. ¡°How do you know he¡¯s dead?¡± I asked. ¡°We never saw his body, if that¡¯s what you mean,¡± Bend replied. ¡°He simply never returned. We assumed the worst had happened.¡± I sat for a moment, staring hard at the map of the city. Vale was the place where The Motorized originally spawned and spread around the world with their vicious hate for The Way of the Mark. Every steam-powered weapon, machine, or tool came from this city, and yet, so far I¡¯d seen no evidence of these hybrid weapons being manufactured in the city itself. Everything in Vale seemed pointed to a source for these hybrid weapons and tools beyond the mysterious inner wall. We¡¯d been training and practicing for many weeks now, and I felt strongly it was time for us to make a more serious move. I took a deep breath, and met Dirk¡¯s eyes. ¡°I think it¡¯s time,¡± I said, matter-of-factly. ¡°We should mount a reconnaissance party to first, discover this factory and confirm it exists. Second, we can gather information and try to disable the factory if possible.¡± Dirk took a deep breath and looked at his son, he smiled grimly. I continued. ¡°Until we know more, we are fighting in the dark. If we go together and scout carefully, we should be able to get in and out quickly. However, Bend, I will need you to stay behind.¡± ¡°But Mage, I can help?¡ª?¡° ¡°Bend, if they surprise us, someone always needs to stay behind in order to preserve The Way. Someone must always pass along the knowledge.¡± Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. He paused for a moment, understanding the gravity of what I¡¯d said, then nodded, ¡°Okay, then,I can stay behind.¡± I nodded. ¡°Then let¡¯s gather the others and prepare our mission.¡± Two days later I led a small party up into the foothills as the morning sun crested the horizon in the East, and warmed us as we climbed. Briar, Greer, Ehren, and Willow came with me on this day. In addition, five of Dirk¡¯s best soldiers joined us, making us a band of ten. I left Shade and Bend behind just in case the worst happened?¡ª?at least Bend could continue training her and there would be something left of our fledgling restart of The Way of the Mark. Besides, there was much more work left to be done. Shade had other weapons and artifacts to install with a magical specialty, and Bend could continue to train on his own, growing in his skill and knowledge. Dirk outfitted each of us with crude leather armor and swords fashioned by his men or scavenged from the city, some of which Shade and I imbued with magical abilities or enhancements. We planned to infiltrate the area beyond the inner wall by approaching carefully from the southern slopes of the foothills. Our goal was primarily to gather intelligence: first, we needed to see what we could see of this Factory from the southern foothills¡ªideally without compromising our positions or making ourselves known at all. Then, depending on the defenses we encountered, I hoped to get inside. If we returned with more information about The Motorized and this mysterious Factory, and no one was injured or killed, in my mind, this mission would be a success. The ten of us left our desert outpost early the previous morning and circled around to the southern foothills. All day we climbed into the foothills far to the south of Vale, and then spent a cold night sleeping on the hard ground, deep in the dead forest. We woke early before the sunrise, heading up into the mountains even higher, and slowly, we started moving northwest toward Vale, toward the inner wall. Though we approached from South of the city, we kept our eyes on the pinnacle of Vale, the westernmost keep at the highest point of the city, and as we got closer, I slowed the group down considerably. We hiked through foothills full of broken scree and loose shale rocks, making the hike treacherous and slippery. As I pushed our party up higher into the mountains, the way grew steeper and we each grabbed onto bare dead trees to keep ourselves from falling back. The skittering of the rocks made it harder to disguise our approach, so we slowed down even more, careful not to make too much noise. By the afternoon of the second day, the smell of the air changed. We caught wind of an oily scent on the air which began to mix with the normal smells of the foothills around us, and of Vale nearby. It wasn¡¯t much longer, when we heard the sounds of machine work clanging gently off the slopes of the mountain. Twice we passed by cave-like vents in the ground that discharged an oily, bubbling liquid, and occasional bursts of steam. We spent a second cold night in a small cave hidden from view with the pungent chemical smells of The Motorized in the air all around us. We spent the next morning hiking slowly upward, with the smells and sounds growing all around us, so much so, it felt like an army of machines were all around us. Our small band of fighters were on high alert as they hiked even higher. I crested a rise at the head of the group and suddenly found myself standing on a cliff overlooking a deep valley. The Valley itself sat far out of sight of Vale, miles above the inner wall where the city ended. Behind the valley, a cliff of sheer rock sprang up launching into the clouds. Cliffs ringed the valley on three sides and the mountain hemmed in the valley on the western side, making the area a naturally hidden position far above Vale, so far that the sounds and smells wouldn¡¯t reach the city. I immediately came into a crouch behind some dead standing brush and motioned for the rest to do the same. Despite our many weeks of training and recovery, my side already ached with a dull pain, the wound seemingly aggravated by two long days of hiking, and sleeping on the cold, hard ground for two nights. I wasn¡¯t as young as I used to be, and I suppose I didn¡¯t heal like I once did. Absently, as I took in our surroundings, I thought that I should have crafted myself a healing ring like the legendary Aiden. Oh well, it was a bit too late for that now. I studied the valley before me. Closest to us, four main buildings stood in the middle of the valley, one of which was much larger than the rest and appeared to be the source for the oily smell and the sounds of machine work. The mages behind me were already calling it, ¡°The Factory.¡± Near The Factory, a large wooden tower stood, topped by a winch and pulley system, probably used for hauling major equipment around the valley floor. A fleet of small steam-powered cycles sat near a third building, around which perhaps a dozen men gathered, smoking their pipes and talking. I guessed that perhaps this lower building was a barracks or station house for Motorized soldiers. Several men rode their cycles around the valley, some riding back toward Vale while another rode toward the fourth building at the back of the valley. At the highest point on the valley floor, backed up to the cliff face and towering above the other three buildings sat an imposing stone Castle, standing by itself and looming larger than even the four large keeps inside the city. Could this be the seat of Uof himself? His home? The castle looked well protected, sitting inside a high stone wall the height of several men. All four buildings sat deep within the valley, far beyond the view of the inner wall, which was some ways down the mountain and out of sight from our position. As I watched the valley below us, I heard what sounded like footsteps coming from our right: a branch cracked. Every one of us hit the ground, and I quickly motioned for silence. Someone was coming. I drew out a small gemstone and palmed it gently. The head of my staff already held a significant amount of matter ready for use. I strained my eyes to look through the trees to our right and along a bluff. Through the dead and bare branches of the trees toward the North, I saw movement and heard voices. I motioned to the others to stay put and slipped forward quietly. I kept close to the ground and gritted my teeth as I felt pain in my side. I crawled forward despite the pain, moving behind the thick, bare branches of a pine tree and saw two pairs of boots belonging to two Vale soldiers standing only a few yards away. Quickly, I drained the gemstone of its matter and began to weave a quick spell to make it ready for casting. Then I waited. The soldiers began to walk again, closing in on my position. As they neared, I could make them out a little more clearly. Both men wore dark-stained leather, and each carried a hybrid, steam-powered weapon of some kind. It must have been a low-intensity beat, patrolling above these cliffs, and certainly, they¡¯d not seen us as they seemed relaxed and quite talkative. When they were only steps from my position, I finished the weave and triggered a spell. A cloud of smoke appeared in front of both men, stopping them immediately as they sought to investigate the source. But before they could raise an alarm, both of them dropped to the ground heavily. I stood up and waved the others forward as the smoke dissipated. ¡°Tie them up and gag them,¡± I said quietly. ¡°We can¡¯t afford to have them coming up behind us. Take their weapons too, we can study them later.¡± Greer and one of Dirk¡¯s men, known as Rafe, drew thick rope from one of their packs and began to tie up the hands and feet of soldiers, gagging them securely so they could make no sound when they awoke. ¡°What spell did you use?¡± Ehren asked, whispering. ¡°It was a cloud of chemicals that will put any man to sleep for a few hours,¡± I replied with a wink. ¡°With you on our side, getting in may not be that hard,¡± Ehren replied, looking down at The Factory. ¡°It¡¯s not the getting in that I¡¯m worried about,¡± I said, looking back at Ehren. ¡°It¡¯s the getting back out.¡± Chapter 22: Mages & Slaves Chapter 22. MAGES & SLAVES After securing the men we¡¯d tied up and gagged, we took the stairs to the valley floor. The valley itself was a large half-moon-shaped canyon just below the Broken Mountains, and far above Vale. The Factory stood larger than the other buildings, except of course, the massive stone Castle at northernmost point of the valley. The inner wall of the city connected to the natural wall of the bluff on the eastern side of the valley, and there we spied a set of stairs that led down to the valley floor. Very few soldiers patrolled the top of the bluff, or the valley floor near the Factory, so it appeared worth the risk to gather more information. And of those few soldiers we did see patrolling the area, they all seemed quite relaxed and unworried. This place was so far above the city, maybe they¡¯d never faced any sort of threats. We left the three soldiers guarding the bluff at the top of the stairs. Briar performed a simple invisibility spell, casting it over all of us, which got us down the stairs unseen. Even marching down the stairs unseen, we couldn¡¯t avoid the two soldiers stationed at the bottom of the stairs. Willow flashed quickly casting a binding spell wrapping up the first motorized soldier, locking him up in the warm embrace of a rope that he couldn¡¯t see or touch. Due to Briar¡¯s invisibility spell, he couldn¡¯t see us either, so he fell to the ground with great fear in his eyes, his mouth bound as tightly as his arms and legs. Willow giggled seeing the spell¡¯s effect. We stowed the man behind the stairs where he should remain in stasis for at an hour, maybe longer. This gave us countdown for how much time we could spend here¡ªthat and the fact that the longer we stayed in the valley, the more likely we were to alert whole squad of trigger happy soldiers and thugs. However, an hour should be time enough for us to get inside The Factory, and get out again with intel enough to inform our future plans. Ehren spotted the second guard walking toward us, and he tried a simple misdirect spell that sent the guard¡¯s attention away from the stairs with a couple simple thrown sounds. A loud crash sounded from the area of the barracks, across the valley. The guard¡¯s head twisted in that direction, and after hearing a second thudding sound, he jogged off toward the north. Greer collected a hybrid weapon from the first thug and watched, waiting for his turn to cast a spell, live and in person. The mages and I moved carefully the rest of the way down the stairs, and I saw a gleam in Ehren¡¯s eyes that betrayed both the excitement and fear he was feeling. And he wasn¡¯t the only one. They had all grown up in Vale, steeped in the legends and laws of Uof and Weer, all of which permeated their childhoods and their adult lives. Even though they¡¯d each been a part of the resistance for some time, in the past six weeks they¡¯d also become mages of The Way, embodying the enemies of Vale and openly defying the laws of this land. The risk they were all taking wasn¡¯t small. Uof would kill them if they were caught using magic of The Way, or worse. Once we all reached the bottom of the stairs, I studied the sprawling building that looked leftover from civilizations of old. Its ancient walls were unnaturally smooth, and stretched at least five men tall, running nearly the length of the east side of the valley. Splotches of an oily substance could be seen here and there on the walls themselves and scattered on the valley floor, making the area glisten and flash colors in the morning sunlight. I gave the signal and our ragtag group half-crouched and ran out onto the valley floor, still invisible, heading toward the Factory building. The valley smelled more sharply of oil and machinery now, as well as a pungent stench that I knew as the smell of burnt plastics, a strange matter from ancient times. As we neared the building, we heard chugging machinery battering away inside, but we could also see now that it was partially a ruin. Large sections of the walls had been blasted open, perhaps for ventilation in the past, making the sounds louder, and through which, dark, smoky fumes leaked into the sky every few minutes. We approached from the south and saw a number of men moving in and out of the building on the opposite side. We needed to find a quieter entrance. We drew to a halt behind an outbuilding sitting near the factory. This small building appeared to be a storage shed storing tools or machinery. I looked up at the massive stone castle-like structure we¡¯d seen from above, on the bluff. From the valley floor the castle towered above everything, dark and imposing, a monstrosity?¡ª?this had to be Uof¡¯s Keep. In contrast to the Factory, the castle stood taller with rough walls of natural stone, crafted of hewn rock in the fashion of the four large stone Keeps inside Vale. It was hard not to stare at the largest building I¡¯d ever seen. Pulling my eyes from the keep, I led us over to the walls of The Factory, seeking cover. Surely more men patrolled the cliff walls above us, meaning the outside of The Factory was too exposed for us to stop and rest. Though it presented potentially even more danger, I led us to a door on the south side of the building?¡ª?near the back and far away from the main entrance. My urgency increased when I saw Briar¡¯s invisibility spell already beginning to show signs of wearing off. Opening the door carefully, I peered inside while the others crouched along the wall behind me, slowly growing into full visibility. The immediate area beyond the door was dark and appeared deserted. It was a small room full of supplies of some kind. We all moved inside quickly, and I shut the door behind us. We took a moment to take stock of our matter and weapons, and I checked on everyone. We¡¯d entered The Factory unseen, and so far, with very little resistance. I knew our fragile peace wouldn¡¯t last long. The small room had another door on the other wall, which I cracked open to see The Factory floor factory stretch out ahead of me. Long, rusted metallic walkways above the floor crowded the space, with metallic stairs leading up and down. Dozens upon dozens of machines worked on the main floor, each burping out gouts of steam and seemingly producing weapons or tools of some kind. I saw a giant blacksmith¡¯s area on the other side of the space with a huge, red-hot kiln, chugging smoke out of its stacks and belching puffs out into the air, some of which leaked through the gaps in the walls of the building. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Several men worked around each machine operating the various functions of the machines themselves. Thugs patrolled the walkways above the machines, each carrying their clearly specialized motorized weapons. I sensed the heavy use of magic in the air, the atmosphere feeling claustrophobic the moment I opened the inner door. The air felt almost heavy with magic. I was curious as to why?¡ª?here in the heart of Vale¡ªmagic use didn¡¯t make sense. The other mages clearly sensed it too, wrinkling their noses as they felt the change in the air. I had to get a closer look at the machines. ¡°Stay here,¡± I whispered to the others. ¡°I¡¯m going inside. I need to get a look at those machines and see how they work. Greer, keep an eye on the Factory floor if anyone comes into this room, take them out by whatever means necessary. Willow watch through the back door. Keep it quiet, if possible.¡± ¡°Yes master,¡± Greer replied, his face serious. ¡°Greer, you don¡¯t have to call me that,¡± I said. ¡°You can just call me Mage.¡± ¡°Yes master,¡± he repeated with a smirk. I shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ll be back in a few minutes,¡± I said, moving out the door. Once I slipped inside The Factory itself, the noise increased and the smell of burning plastic and oil was noxious and overpowering. I moved in a crouch toward one of the metal stairways, keeping an eye on the men patrolling the walkways above the machines themselves. Scaling the stairs and getting up to the walkways would make seeing these machines easier, but the walkways were crawling with soldiers all of whom were heavily armored and carrying large steam-powered weapons. These men looked to be the best of Uof¡¯s army, not part of the rabble I¡¯d met in front of the city some weeks before. I crouched beneath one set of metal stairs, hoping my dagger of stealth would cover me somewhat, and looked around for the magic beacons I¡¯d seen placed throughout the city. There were none here. Suddenly, I realized, with the amount of magic in the air, there would be no need for beacons?¡ª?someone was working with magic here at such a high level, the beacons would be lit at all times. I could feel the magic used in this place was nearly constant, which made me a shiver. Mages must be present. There under the stairs, I drained some minerals I¡¯d had in my pockets, and cast a spell I¡¯d created some years ago¡ªa spell simpler to cast than invisibility, requiring less matter. It was easy to cast on myself, but nearly impossible to cast on a group of people. I called it my Visual Bounce Spell. In essence, the spell covered me in a shield that only enacted when someone saw me. If someone looked at me, the spell would bounce their vision somewhere else immediately, so fast in fact, that effectively they wouldn¡¯t see me at all. The only time this spell became ineffective was at close range. If someone stared straight at me, they would see me, but the confusion in their minds would give me enough time to move, dodge, escape, or attack, if I had no other options. Or at least that was my hope. Completing the spell, I moved out from under the stairway, walking determinedly toward the machines in the center of The Factory. I angled down a side alley between the main floor and a row of shelving units along the east wall. I found a nook between shelving units and came into a crouch before one of the machines that wasn¡¯t currently in operation. Beyond it, I could see several other machines in use. Each machine appeared different, totally unique in their construction. No two machines were alike. One of them appeared to be churning out gun barrels of varying sizes. Two men worked the machine itself, assembling parts, while a third man sat in a chair behind them. I watched the three of them work for few minutes, and I saw that each gun they machined was given a barrel of a different size¡ªno surprise there, each weapon, like each machine, was unique. We¡¯d always known The Law of Commonality somehow guided the power of the hybrid weapons, which was why they were each so different in construction. This made each weapon more powerful because it was wholly original, but how that happened in practice, we¡¯d never known. The key was here, right in front of me somewhere. I narrowed my eyes, shuffling closer to the nearest machine, finding an area behind the unused piece of equipment that offered me a better view of the three men at work. One man slowly and methodically fashioned parts for a weapon. The second man received parts made by other machines, and then carefully assembled them with the parts machined by the first man. I couldn¡¯t see anything strange in their methods. I shuffled along a little further until I could see the man sitting at the back of each machine. Seeing him, a revelation hit me like a tree branch to the face. I¡¯d been wrong all along. This third man was chained to the machine, his face a mask of constant pain and rage. At first, the picture didn¡¯t make sense as I took it in. This third man was dirty, unkempt, and bleeding from numerous cuts and bruises on his body. He moved in a rhythmic fashion that looked smooth, practiced, and artful. He was performing spells. He was a mage. The shock of this hit me hard, as my head swam for a moment. His arms were chained to the floor with enough leeway in the chain to cast spells, and his legs were bound together similarly. His wrists had sores where the chains were cuffed to him. He wasn¡¯t just a mage. He was a slave. I shook my head and watched his movements, as shock continued to wash over me. Meanwhile, the mageslave launched a series of spells into a large crossbow as it was assembled. Then he did it again on the next weapon, with variations. Some spells changed with each new weapon, triggering something in the devices, while one spell was used on every weapon, every single time. This final spell didn¡¯t actually trigger, it was held in abeyance. I guessed that it was the spell that helped make the weapons or tools work. I watched him cast the spell as best I could from my vantage point?¡ª?he didn¡¯t seem to speak any words during the casting?¡ª?but I found it was an entirely foreign spell I¡¯d never seen nor used before. Perhaps it was an ancient spell of some kind? Beside him sat a small bucket. I assumed it kept the matter he used to create his series of spells. Every so often, he reached toward the bucket, draining some piece of matter to cast another spell. Beyond him, out on the Factory floor, dozens of other mages sat behind machines in the same way, each one chained to other machines just like this man. There were more beyond that. The implications of what I saw did not register fully, and instead of taking the time to process this new information, I simply grew angry and reacted. I worked up a spell on instinct, draining matter, tuning into the Well, performing the movements necessary, and finishing the spell. When I triggered it, the bonds securing the mage in front of me sprung loose, and though he¡¯d likely been sitting there all day, he was ready. He leaped up like a gazelle, sprinting away?¡ª?as if he¡¯d been waiting for release all this time. Before I could even consider what I was doing, I cast the same spell six more times, springing fellow mages free, one after another. I didn¡¯t even get a chance to talk with one of them, because a loud explosion lit into the air from the back of The Factory. A bright flash of light accompanied the BANG! Something was wrong?¡ª?that was Greer. Every guard in The Factory immediately started moving toward the back storage room, heedless of the six free mages now roaming the factory floor. I sprinted toward the little room at the back of The Factory and ran headlong into three soldiers who were moving the same direction. I drained a metal bucket on the ground near me, and threw my hands forward to push cast a forceful wind, which knocked over all three of them instantly. I didn¡¯t stop to see if they got back up. When I got back to the small room, the doorway was a smoking, jagged hole in the wall. Greer was on his feet near the door, draining matter and readying for another attack, while Briar, shook his head, probably trying to get the ringing out of their ears. Dirk¡¯s two soldiers crouched with Willow near the back the small room, guarding the back door. I stepped into the doorway of the small room. ¡°Here they come,¡± he grumbled. Chapter 23: A Mage Left Behind Chapter 23. A MAGE LEFT BEHIND ¡°Where¡¯s Ehren?¡± I asked, standing there in the smoking hole that used to be the door to the small room. Each of them suddenly looked around, confused. ¡°Master?¡± Greer replied, not meeting my eyes. I realized that they couldn¡¯t see me. I dropped my visual bounce spell and their eyes all quickly focused on mine. ¡°There you are. What was that?¡± Willow asked. ¡°Later,¡± I said. ¡°We gotta get out of here. Where¡¯s Ehren?¡± ¡°They took him,¡± Briar said. ¡°They tried to grab Greer too, but he was quick with a spell¡ªbut before we knew what was happening Ehren was gone. Greer saved us.¡± ¡°Which way did they go?¡± I asked. ¡°It happened so fast,¡± Briar said. ¡°I didn¡¯t see where.¡± We heard shouts coming toward us just outside the former doorway. ¡°We need to get out of here,¡± I said, pointing to the back door. As I soon spoke, half a dozen soldiers skidded to a stop behind me, right at the entrance to the room, each bearing mean, blunt-nosed looking weapons. ¡°Willow, invisibility please!¡± I shouted, turning to meet the charge. I drew matter from the head of my staff, and threw up a wall of air where the door used to be. It was invisible but solid enough to hold off attacks, at least for a few moments. The first thug ran face-first into the wall, falling back to the ground with a nose bleed. The others discharged their weapons into the wall of air, creating explosions that made the shield wall shudder but forced the resulting explosions to detonate on the other side of the wall. This disoriented the Motorized, all of whom fell to the ground, some unconscious, some holding their faces or their ears. ¡°It¡¯s in place, we¡¯re invisible,¡± Willow called out. I looked back, and it was true, they were all gone. I dropped the wall of air and moved out into the hallway. I looked in both directions seeking any sign of Ehren. To the right, I saw a dozen guards heading our way, each bearing mean-looking steam-powered weapons. To the left, another dozen guards headed our way. Above me I spied another group of men moving toward us, clanging down the metallic walkways with pounding steps. None of them could see me, but I knew I couldn¡¯t survive another blast from one of those weapons. And I didn¡¯t want to test myself or the young mages against a battle-hardened Vale army used to subduing mages. Blast it, Ehren, I thought. Where are you? ¡°Get out,¡± I shouted to the rest behind me. ¡°I¡¯ll meet you outside on top of the bluff!¡± Hearing my voice, volleys of arrows launched in my direction, some lodging in the wall behind me, off target. One of the soldiers on the catwalk stopped and fired in my direction, and I threw up a quick shield of air just in time, deterring the majority of a large explosion, though the shockwave still knocked me back onto my knees. In ten seconds I would be overwhelmed and they would find me, invisible or not. I looked out to The Factory floor and saw more mages chained to machines nearby. Gritting my teeth, I got to my feet. I drained the matter of a couple of mops in a corner, and wove another spell, loosening the bonds of one mage, then two. I felt a thrill wash over me. With rapid-fire spells, I freed five more mages in quick succession and saw each of them spring up and begin to cast their own spells, free others, and fight back against The Motorized assault. My body buzzed with the feeling of casting spell after spell¡ªit felt so good, strangely, it almost hurt. Some of the soldiers running towards me turned to engage the battle with the freed mages. But then, just like that, I had no more time and the Motorized were everywhere. I needed to get out now. I turned and sprinted through the small room and back outside into the sun. Practically an entire regiment of soldiers charged out behind me, as we left The Factory behind. ¡°Every thug in Uof¡¯s army is after us,¡± I yelled to the others, wherever they were. Using matter from the head of my staff, I cast a quick spell allowing me to see the others¡ªthough they remained invisible. ¡°Alright, there you all are,¡± I said, taking stock of the situation. None of them had made it back to the bluff. They were all hudding near the storage shed. I looked over to the stairs back up to the top of the bluff, which were now crawling with soldiers. I could also see more men pouring through the gates of the keep, and more heading our way from the barracks. This was going from bad to impossible. ¡°We have to move fast,¡± I called out to the others. ¡°Even though they can¡¯t see us, these soldiers know how to fight mages. The stairs back up won¡¯t work. Let¡¯s move toward the cliffs?¡ª?now! Follow my voice.¡± I pulled out my last piece of gold, and drained it of its matter as we ran, holding it in my hands. As we reached the cliff wall, I began to weave a new spell. ¡°To me,¡± I said aloud, so the mages find me. I felt a rush of anger move through me, along with a deep desire to destroy all of those who chased us. I felt angry at myself for not releasing all of the mages in The Factory, and I was even upset with Ehren for getting himself lost or taken? ¡°Greer, ready a lightning spell,¡± I shouted angrily. Voices were moving our direction. I shouldn¡¯t have shouted and alerted them to our position, but I didn¡¯t care. ¡°What for?¡± he asked, as he began to drain another piece of matter in preparation. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. ¡°If someone gets too close to us, drop some lightning on their heads,¡± I replied through gritted teeth as we ran. ¡°When we reach the top of the bluff, we may have to fight our way clear. Gather around me, all of you.¡± Men darted past us now?¡ª?they still couldn¡¯t see us, but they could hear our disembodied voices. The three remaining mages, and Dirk¡¯s fighters, stood next to me as I cast my spell. The spell took hold and all nine of us rose into the air. We grabbed onto each other as we floated upward?¡ª?shrieks of fear escaping the lips of the resistance fighters with us. I thought I heard someone whispering prayers. ¡°Don¡¯t move,¡± I whispered. ¡°I created a platform of air under us that we will ride up the cliff face.¡± We rose straight up the cliff walls, invisible to the enemy. However, I hadn¡¯t accounted for the small rocks and patches of dirt that would rise along with us. I looked down and saw that a patch of the ground rose with us, gaining the attention of every soldier and thug in the valley. Motorized began to gather beneath us, shooting up at us, and bullets and arrows and shot lit the air around us, tearing past us, exploding nearby. ¡°Briar, Willow, do you remember the basic shield spell?¡± I asked quickly. ¡°Yes,¡± they both said, gasping as they looked all around. The patch of dirt rising into the air formed a kind of target and made us easy to fire upon, like fish in a barrel. We¡¯d risen halfway up the cliff face and still had some ways to go. At the top of the bluff itself, a solider stood looking down toward us. ¡°Briar, cast it below us! Willow, cast it on the cliffside of us!¡± I shouted as a small explosion ripped into the air below us. I felt the warmth of the explosion through my boots. This was getting far too close?¡ª?the next explosion could destroy our platform entirely. Five or six men now gathered at the top of the cliff where I¡¯d hoped to exit this little ride. ¡°Shield in place,¡± Willow called out. ¡°Mine too,¡± Briar shouted. ¡°Also Mage, we¡¯re not invisible anymore,¡± Willow called out. ¡°They can see us clearly now.¡± ¡°Greer, ready your lightning spell,¡± I said. ¡°Ready master,¡± he said, his hands held out before him. We rose steadily, and though we had a shield below us now, I still felt scatters of shot firing up at us from below. As we approached the top of the cliff, we started getting pummeled from that side as well?¡ª?from the men above us?¡ª?but Willow¡¯s shield held. We huddled together on our invisible platform, trying to make ourselves small. I turned around and looked down into the valley and saw the other mages, those I¡¯d freed, starting to pour out the back door of the Factory. I couldn¡¯t just leave them there. Soldiers moved in toward them now, dozens of them coming toward them all at once. I drew on the remaining matter in my staff and cast an explosion spell right into the middle of the Motorized, sending bodies flying, clearing a path for the mages. ¡°Mages, if you have anything left, let¡¯s clear a path for those mages below,¡± I said, our platform still moving up. I looked from the mages below to the stairs. Maybe there was a chance for them to get up here. Briar cast a spell, exploding the cliff face above the stairs¡ªtossing rocks and earth down¡ªknocking soldiers off the stairway, some crushed under the larger rocks. Greer threw another lightning blast into a group of soldiers at the bottom of the stairs, WHAM! The spell decimated the entire group, leaving a gouge in the earth. With a small gemstone, I launched a tornado of wind into another group of soldiers, further away, spinning them into chaos. I low buzz hummed in my mind, and I felt an intense thrill at the same time¡ªagain, I was doing more spellcasting today than I¡¯d ever done before. The mages below could see what we were trying to do, and they started to move toward the stairs, casting their own spells of protection and defense. We took more fire from the top of the bluff, especially as we drew closer, and had to turn our attention in that direction. ¡°Greer, on a count of three, hit the men at the top of the cliff,¡± I said, as explosions continued to light the air around us, with bullets and arrows zinging past. ¡°Ready,¡± he grumbled, waiting to trigger his spell. ¡°One,¡± I said as we continued to rise. More bullets and explosions found the air all around us. The shields held. ¡°Two.¡± Men raced up the stairs toward the bluff. We were going to have to sprint the moment we hit the ground. ¡°Three,¡± I called out. ¡°Now Greer!¡± A brilliant flash of light HAMMERED the air, the concussion exploding in the midst of the soldiers on the cliff top. All five men exploded in the flash as Greer¡¯s jagged rail of lightning detonated, but along with them, a chunk of the top of the cliff shook violently and tumbled down to the valley floor, carving a giant hole out of the bluff. Willow¡¯s shield wall held, and the explosion bounced around us, though we felt dirt and debris raining around us, heard the explosion, and saw the blinding light. I moved our invisible platform to the top of the bluff into a place we could get off quickly without coming under too much fire. I helped the others up onto the top of the bluff. I was about to leap off the platform, when an arrow buzzed close and exploded behind me, knocking me off my feet. As I got to my knees, my head felt hazy for a moment, my ears rang, but I managed to get to my feet and stagger off the platform and onto the bluff. I looked down and saw the soldiers now engaged in a fight with eight to ten of the mages as they moved up the stairway. More explosions rocked the valley and smoke rose from The Factory itself. Willow, who¡¯d be first off the platform, moved toward the top of the stairway and then cast a focused blast of fire toward two Motorized thugs waiting for the mages at the top of the stairs. Their path was clear now. We gathered with the three fighters we¡¯d left on the bluff, and moved to the top of the stairs. Eight mages of varying ages, all of them looking exhausted, ran up to the top of the stairs, and joined us. Before we could exchange any pleasantries, an explosion hit the stairway below, and we turne and ran. Running through the bare forest moments later, everything around me was muffled and my vision cloudy. I grabbed onto Greer¡¯s shoulder just to keep upright. After twenty minutes of muffled sounds, my hearing slowly returned. First, I heard the sounds of the soldiers shouting behind us, but we moved quickly making our way down the mountain toward the southwest. I glanced around as ran, and saw the other mages, especially those who¡¯d been slaves only minutes before, weren¡¯t doing well either. After another half an hour, the sounds of the chase faded even more. We continued running down the mountain, and exhaustion settle into me, as I felt aches settle into my bones, and worse, a feverish heat burning up my head. I agonized over events from the day as we ran. I couldn¡¯t stop thinking about poor, young Ehren and wondering what they would do to him. There were too many of Uof¡¯s men at The Factory to go in and rescue him directly. We would have to somehow draw them out. I pondered how we might set up a large distraction in the city to draw the eyes of The Motorized. While they were distracted we could swoop into The Factory again and grab him. Even then, we didn¡¯t know if he would be held there, or in one of the other keeps in Vale. It was reckless and stupid, I thought. Over and over I cursed my lack of care. Uof would torture him to get as much information about the resistance as he could, then chain him up to one of his machines and use him to make more of his weapons. With that in mind, however, there was good news. We now had a new piece of information that could help us. Uof wasn¡¯t actually killing mages in every village and town where I¡¯d seen his thugs taking mages of The Way. Though The Motorized had killed thousands of mages, his armies also captured mages they found and brought them here to be slaves. So I wasn''t the last mage after all. While this gave me hope for Ehren, it was simultaneously worrying. What was the spell the slave mage had performed? What did it do? Most importantly, how could we stop them? With my head pounding, my side throbbing, and my fever growing, we ran. I lost myself in taking step after step. All the while, I rehearsed the spell I¡¯d watched the mage perform as he sat chained to the machine. I went over the movements again and again as we ran down the mountain. I didn¡¯t see him saying any words. Did I have the whole thing? I wasn¡¯t sure. I would have to work on this further. Perhaps I could discover one of the keys to creating the hybrid weapons in discovering the workings of this very spell. Perhaps not. As we jogged through the dead forest, still many miles from our desert outpost, the answer suddenly occurred to me. I knew how we could defeat Uof. Chapter 24: Chaos Chapter 24. CHAOS Two days later, while Willow, Briar, Greer, and the other mages, slept off four days of hiking in our desert outpost, I sat at a table and nursed a strong-brewed coffee. I¡¯d slept little the night before, tossing and turning and achy due to fever, but now I couldn¡¯t sleep if I tried. My body felt sore, and the wound in my side had reared its head again as I tried to sleep, pain searing my body in a way that felt even worse than before. But it wasn¡¯t just physical. After leaving Ehren behind and seeing mages enslaved for their spell casting, anger burned in my chest, hot and brutal. Beyond the physical aches and pains, and the mental anguish I felt, the consequences of our actions hadn¡¯t been pretty in Vale. Pockets of resistance all around the city had gone on high alert when we shared information about the existence of The Factory, the enslavement of mages, Uof¡¯s grand castle up in the mountains, as well as young Ehren¡¯s capture. Our friends and allies spread what we¡¯d learned in the pubs and markets and now the city was abuzz. The ranks of the resistance swelled as family and friends and those who¡¯d been on the fence before, now joined up and offered to help us in any way they could to recover young Ehren and fight back. At the same time, we heard reports of bands of armed thugs roaming the streets, searching buildings, interrogating suspected resistance members, and seeking us out with every resource at their disposal. The Motorized sent out their most well-trained soldiers for regular, consistent, and organized marches through the streets, either as a show of force, or to track down some specific lead about the resistance. Dirk and I expected that Ehren would eventually break, tortured to the point of giving up the locations of our hidden bases and secret tunnels in the city, and even the location of this desert outpost. So, we¡¯d moved the majority of our operations to the desert outpost, and we pushed everyone to remain vigilant. Upon waking up, I¡¯d heard the report that Bend and Shade spent the previous night distracting bands of thugs by casting spells away from resistance shelters and sending their attention toward other false leads. They lit up magic detectors all over the city. They launched balls of light and sent them rising above neighborhoods at varying times, some of which would stay lit for many hours. Small explosions lit the air here or there and chaos reigned in the city. These distractions added to the general feeling that something had changed. Citizens whispered in the markets about a gathering army of mages on the prowl in Vale, though of course, this was far from the truth. Seeing so many spells being cast openly in the city was something that hadn¡¯t happened in decades¡ªso the Motorized seemed shocked. This sent Vale¡¯s disorganized thugs into a frenzy of confusion, reacting to reports radically and irrationally. Patrols whisked through the city from one location to another, and our reports told us that Uof¡¯s men had begun to appear sweaty, tired, and wide-eyed. Dirk entered the main room of the outpost where I sat, and dropped himself heavily into another chair at the table. ¡°Have you slept?¡± I asked him. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. ¡°Not a wink,¡± he said. ¡°The city talks about you this morning, especially with what¡¯s happened overnight. Rumors about The Factory and about you, Mage, as well as our young Ehren, have spread to every corner of Vale. Of course, we¡¯re starting most of these rumors, but new stories seem to crop up on their own. The day is looking bright, mage. Volunteers are joining with the resistance throughout the city. I¡¯m not sure anyone slept last night.¡± ¡°Are Bend and Shade done?¡± ¡°For now, yes,¡± he said looking back to the bunkhouse. ¡°They are getting some rest too.¡± ¡°These volunteers¡­,¡± I began. ¡°I know, we¡¯re going about this carefully,¡± Dirk interrupted. ¡°We¡¯re putting off new volunteers for the moment until everything calms down, but we have lists of those who want to join us, new resistance fighters from every quarter of the city. We¡¯ll gather them and begin to test them soon.¡± I nodded slowly, taking a drink of the dark, bitter coffee. ¡°Have you spoken to the mages you freed yet?¡± ¡°Not yet,¡± I replied. ¡°I¡¯m giving them time. I need time.¡± We sat there for a moment, and I held the warm wooden cup of coffee between my hands, watching the steam rise. My own thoughts for the past few hours had centered around the Factory and the mages chained to machines. We¡¯d gotten eight of them out, and I had so many questions to ask them. But they needed to recover first, and so did I. Beyond that, there were so many more still chained up at the Factory, somehow we would need to add them to our number. If we could that, this war started to look winnable. Of course, we had to rescue Ehren too. We needed to bring in the new volunteers quickly, train them as best we could in a short time, and take advantage of the moment. And there, in the back of my mind, floated that spell I saw in The Factory. What did it really do? ¡°Dirk, what do you think we should do next?¡± I asked, with a deep sigh. He laid his hands on the table and looked at me for a moment. I knew the feelings he wrestled with well?¡ª?I¡¯d felt some semblance of them in every city where I¡¯d encountered a resistance and fought against a motorized government of some kind. While this was different in every possible way, the tensions were similar. ¡°I am of two minds?¡ª?my thoughts are on Ehren?¡ª?they will torture him for information if our past experience is any guide,¡± he said, his head down. ¡°And while I would like to get him back right away, I also know that our focus should be on The Factory. How does it work and how do we stop it? We¡¯ve known that Uof had been persecuting Mages for decades. We didn¡¯t realize that Uof had imprisoned and tortured some of those mages, which shows him to be the hypocrite we always knew he was. If what you described about the machines is accurate, they enslave mages to power their machinery. This changes everything. If we can rescue all of them, perhaps we will have the army we need to overthrow Vale.¡± He stopped for a moment, and I waited, watching his face. ¡°To think of the real possibility that we could face an age without Uof, is¡­¡± he fumbled for the words, his eyes welling up. ¡°We could create a new government for the people of Vale. We could rid the world of these thugs who seek power over people, find peace between The Motorized and The Way. But¡­ he won¡¯t give up easily.¡± He stopped himself, shaking his head. ¡°What am I saying?¡± Dirk wiped his eyes. ¡°He still has an iron grip on this world, and we¡¯re leagues away from wresting it from his grasp. Honestly, we¡¯ve attacked them multiple times now, and I think a storm is coming.¡± He stopped and I nodded. ¡°My thoughts run similar to yours Dirk,¡± I said. ¡°Everyone is going to need rest after this, but we can¡¯t wait to act or Uof will get the upper hand. Let¡¯s form a plan of our own tonight, together.¡± Suddenly, the door burst open and a young woman from Dirk¡¯s fighters entered the room, sweaty and out of breath. She¡¯d obviously just run a long distance. ¡°Uof is going to appear!¡± she nearly shouted, when she¡¯d finally caught her breath. ¡°They¡¯re putting the word out?¡ª?he¡¯s coming into the city.¡± Chapter 25: Uof Appears Chapter 25. UOF APPEARS ¡°Uof is going to appear! They¡¯re putting the word out?¡ª?he¡¯s coming into the city," she said. I had to blink to take in her words again. So soon after our attack on The Factory? This could easily be a trap, or worse. ¡°He hasn''t been seen in a decade!¡± Dirk replied. ¡°Where will he appear?¡± ¡°The central market square," she said. "He''s going to give a speech, apparently. His soldiers are setting up the area now. We must go watch what he says!¡± "Couldn''t this be a trap?" I said. "It could be, but it''s not likely to be effective in such a public place," Dirk said. "I doubt he''s going to set a trap for thousands who will come to watch him speak. If we find a removed location to watch from, stay back as far as we can, we should be okay." I nodded, drinking down the rest of my coffee. I had a feeling I would need it. We reached the town¡¯s central market after taking a circuitous route, careful that we wouldn¡¯t be followed or recognized. After stepping through a door inside an alleyway, and winding through nondescript apartment stairwells and hallways, I stepped out onto the rooftop of a stone tenement building with a small crowd of citizens, a few of whom were other rebels, including Dirk. Before me, the central market square opened up a wide space surrounded by buildings two- and three- stories high, almost giving the space the feeling of an amphitheater. This square was the site of the largest market in Vale, usually a bustling hive of activity featuring booths and tables too numerous to count, with everyone shouting and selling wares of various kinds. Today the entire square was empty of market stalls except for a single, large staging platform on the western side of the square, built solidly of wood and usually used for the auctioning off of livestock. Today, the stage presented only a single chair. At the back of the stage, someone had erected a large black curtain, behind which we could not see. An army of well-armed guards four-deep surrounded the staging area and the entire central square itself was lined with well-armed motorized thugs, making the place seem almost prison-like, enclosed and hemmed in on every side. The gathered crowd was enormous, filling every other space in the square, people crushing together to see their leader for the first time in over a decade, a buzz of voices talking excitedly. Every citizen of Vale seemed to be crammed into this small square. Every rooftop surrounding the market square was crowded with people, with hundreds more gathered at every window and balcony. Magic beacons stood tall like street lamps all around the square almost a warning in and of themselves. Our perch gave us a clear view directly across from the staging area where it seemed that Uof would appear. Other resistance fighters of ours were spread around the square, but most of the other mages stood in the crowd on the roof with me. We did leave all of the freed mages back at our desert outpost and they still had much recovery left to do. I wore a simple brown shirt, similar to those of the order of monks in Vale who served the Creator, instead of my usual black-hooded cloak, and my many-pocketed under vests, both of which would have drawn far too much attention. I had stashed some rare matter on me, and thankfully, I still had a single diamond piece ready for use. Today, I just looked like another old man, my long gray hair and beard similar to some of the other monks in Vale. As we watched, Dirk and I exchanged fearful looks. What was Uof planning? The crowd hushed suddenly as three soldiers of Vale stepped out onto the platform from behind the curtain, their red leather uniforms pristine. Their boots thudded onto the platform, the sound echoing loud in the sudden hush of the square. CLUNK! Clunk. Clunk. I could see something large behind the curtain, and people whispered, snatching glances. The silence in the square suddenly felt weighty, dangerous, and tension filled. Moments later, two more guards wearing red mounted the steps to the stage and stood next to the chair at the center of the platform. Guards who wore red, everyone knew, were part of the infamous Valeguard, known as both the fiercest fighters in Vale and Uof¡¯s personal soldiers. I''d heard others tell stories about seeing the Valeguard in action, fearsome fighters to a man. I watched them carefully, knowing we would likely have to face them at some point. Another man stepped out from behind the curtain, standing tall with a hawkish nose, fierce eyes, and an air of authority. He wore a red leather shirt, several stars sparkled on the chest of the shirt as if he were a general of some kind. He also wore a long, black hooded cape, which partially hid his face¡ªthis man was clearly in charge of whatever room he walked into. Was this Uof? I wondered. However, once he stepped out, he stood to the side, watching the crowd as if a bird of prey seeking a mouse. His head bobbed up and down as he studied the people watching, his eyes roving over each part of the square. I would have to watch this one. The crowd stood silent, though a few whispers could be heard, anticipating Uof¡¯s appearance. A moment later, two more Valeguard appeared bearing a single prisoner between them. They brought the prisoner to the middle of the stage and sat him down roughly. The crowd gasped. It was Ehren. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. He wore a long, black hooded cloak like the one I usually wore as well as black hat, but his face bore bruises and cuts from obvious beatings. The cloak and hat stood out to me though¡ªthey''d dressed him to look like me. A booming voice out of nowhere rang out in the square. ¡°People of Vale,¡± a deep voice came from all directions, amplified though no one appeared. ¡°My men caught the mage attacking our beloved city last night, and today he will pay for his crimes in front of all of you. You may have heard about an evil mage ravaging our streets. Well, we apprehended him. I want you all to know that in Vale we fear no mages.¡± A hushed chatter spread around the square. Then something or someone stepped out from behind the large curtain and onto the platform, taller than any man I''d ever seen or met. This something took on the vague shape of a human, but I gasped, seeing only saw a monster. Here¡¯s what I knew about him before that moment: Uof had not been seen in public for many years, reportedly over a decade. Citizens revered and feared Uof with equal measure. He was the son of Weer, the previous leader of Vale and the original pioneer who had created the very first Motorized tools and weapons. In two generations, Weer and his son had eradicated the mages following The Way and permeated the world with their strange new weapons and machines. Uof now led the movement that many had called The Motorized. When Uof stepped out onto the platform that day, the entire crowd gasped audibly. Some even physically recoiled, falling back in fear and terror. My stomach lurched as I stared at Uof and tried to process the thing I saw standing before me. Uof walked to the front of the stage, but ¡°walked¡± wasn''t an accurate description. His limbs were comprised of mechanized parts, his body covered in a metallic frame, wires running this way and that. His right arm was a weapon by itself, a metallic arm that ended in a blunt-nosed crossbow loaded with an array, perhaps a dozen openly visible snub-nosed arrowheads, while his left arm bore the look of an over-large metallic hand, each individual finger a metallic contraption. His legs were pistons, each pumping and cranking as he walked across the stage, built from large metallic tubes with steel clawed feet that clanked on the wooden platform with every step. His head and his torso were clearly human, but a metallic helmet wrapped around his head and a series of lenses covered one of his eyes, presumably giving him the ability to see far distances. Uof''s torso was an amalgam of wires and gears and interlocking mechanical parts, and it was difficult to see where his body ended and the mechanized man began. The most imposing part was Uof¡¯s sheer size. However tall he stood before, Uof now stood well over ten feet tall. As he stepped into the sunlight at the front of the stage my heart started beating faster. What was he? What exactly were we dealing with now? How would we fight such a monster? I even felt a little nauseous. ¡°Do you like my new body?¡± Uof called out in the same booming voice, a large grin on his face. He stared out at the crowd with hungry, intense human eyes. As he turned and looked at the crowd with his very human head, gears whirred, and pistons pumped, small burps of steam erupted into the air here and there and an oily substance was left behind wherever he stepped on the wooden stage. The crowd stared back at him, mouths agape, everyone in shock. ¡°Year ago, we started this transition and I was reborn with a shred of immortality,¡± Uof said, his voice echoing throughout the square. ¡°I will live at least another hundred years longer, because of this body. And I want all of you to know: if you continue to follow me, each of you will have the opportunity to be reborn in this way as well.¡± The crowd reacted audibly, some gasping, others responding with surprise and delight. Uof turned to Ehren, the pistons in his legs pumping as he stepped toward the young man. Every step across the wooden stage THUNKED, as though his body weighed a ton. ¡°But we have some business to attend to first, " Uof said, his voice tinny, with a mechanized hum. "How do we punish mages for following this twisted Way of theirs?¡± ¡°Death,¡± the crowd whispered softly. ¡°Death,¡± Uof said, his voice low and serious, his metallic head nodding and glinting in the sunlight. Uof stepped up to Ehren, who looked up at the mechanized monster with obvious fear in his eyes. After a moment, Uof hauled back and swung his metal fist at Ehren¡¯s face. The crack on the young man¡¯s jaw echoed throughout the square, blood spraying across the stage. I flinched and immediately brought several gemstones into my hands¡ªno matter what he was or how strong he looked, I couldn¡¯t let Uof kill Ehren right in front of me. I¡¯d seen some version of this drama play out in other smaller towns before, and even if it meant my death, I couldn¡¯t hold back in this moment. Of course, this was Uof''s plan¡ªdraw me out, draw us all out. The crowd cried out in awe and fear. Ehren squirmed in the chair, his face anguished, but the guards on either side of him kept their hands on his shoulders. Uof backhanded him once more to the face, blood spraying across the stage again, and Ehren¡¯s head lolled back¡ªknocked unconscious¡ªa small mercy I supposed. ¡°We will mete out a sentence worthy of this man¡¯s crimes soon enough,¡± Uof said, turning back to the crowd. ¡°First, I want to tell you about a reward. You see, we know this mage isn¡¯t the only rebel in our fair city. There are others here in our midst. They hide from us, cowering in the shadows, and we believe there may be other mages acting in concert with this one. They may be standing in this very square with us today.¡± The crowd looked around suspiciously, commenting, whispering, shaking their heads. Uof stepped to the edge of the platform, lowering his voice and peering around carefully. The crowd seemed to lean in. ¡°In exchange for information that leads to the capture of these angry rebels of the twisted Way, I am prepared to offer you property, including an estate on the mountain with your very own water well. I offer freedom for you and your family and riches beyond your wildest imagining. And if you so choose, I can offer you bodily modifications that will extend your life, like I have extended mine.¡± It was instantaneous. In that moment, we all felt the crowd turn. Whereas before, many in the city seemed skeptical and fearful of Uof, even embracing the rebellion and our mission, in this moment I sensed a shifting of the tide of emotions. The crowd erupted with cheers, shouts, and people looking at one another almost as if they would discover traitors standing next to them. An entire city of thirsty people turned against The Way. That¡¯s when someone on our rooftop called out. ¡°They¡¯re up here! Uof! The Mage is up here!¡± Everyone in the square looked up toward the source of the voice. He stood there in front of us¡ªa man stood on our rooftop¡ªpointing his arm directly at me. Uof looked up and pointed at me too, crying out in a voice that boomed around the square. "Is that you, Mage?" Someone fired a some kind of exploding weapon aimed at our cluster of mages. Before we could blink there was an explosion in the air above us. Willow fell to the ground, taking the bulk of the explosion. Bend cried out and went to her, kneeling and checking her wounds. It all happened in an instant and it was then that I knew. It was time to run. Chapter 26: A Work of Fire PART TWO: UOF The Way of the Mark Tenet #3 ¡°Users of the Way can use any substance to form a spell, except human or animal blood. It is also forbidden to use the substance of the human body to cast any spell.¡± Chapter 26. A WORK OF FIRE The man pointing at me stood on the roof with us, and had been one of our own rebel fighters who¡¯d been on the fringes of the group. We all knew a betrayal of some kind was inevitable, but this was the worst possible moment for it. Every eye in the square flicked up to our rooftop. ¡°Uof, my master, the mage of the twisted Way is here!¡± the former rebel fighter called out. ¡°We must leave now!¡± Bend whispered. He was already hauling Willow toward the stairwell with a couple of others. Several others pointed at me shouting and drawing Uof¡¯s eye to us. Dirk, who stood nearby, cursed under his breath and delivered a single, emphatic punch to the betrayer¡¯s nose, which, intentionally or unintentionally, dropped him off the roof of the building causing shouts from the crowd below. Time slowed to a crawl as my mind surveyed the scene. No motorized thugs stood on our rooftop, but one man on the building next to ours drew a large caliber rifle to his shoulder, preparing to fire toward our position. We had only seconds. There were soldiers coming toward our direction from the square as well, but they would take longer to get to us. But we were about to take fire from below as well. I had to create a distraction, draw their eyes and their fire, and let the others get away, and I had to do it fast. ¡°Dirk, take the others and go, now!¡± I said quickly, pointing to a building directly behind the one on which we stood. ¡°Get to that building, get down, and disperse as fast as you can. Get out of here and I will draw their fire.¡± I stepped forward to the edge of the rooftop so the whole square could see me standing tall. I wove a quick shielding spell protecting the rooftop for a few seconds, allowing the others to retreat. The crowd below screamed when they me, scattering. In the background, a booming voice called out, ¡°Get him!¡± Dirk was about to protest my orders, but another explosion lit the air above us. The concussion shuddered, shooting an array of shrapnel over the rooftop. Two men near the edge of the building outside the shielding spell went down. Someone from below had fired a missile of some kind. Another rifle shot rang out, hitting the rooftop just as a bullet of some kind whizzed well over my head. I wove another spell using a piece of the stone shrapnel from the rooftop, draining its matter and creating a pointed shaft like an arrow. I released it from the ground and sent it magically toward the single thug on the rooftop next to ours¡ªhe was in the process of trying to reach us¡ªa process that he aborted as the shaft pierced his neck. I lost sight of him as he fell. In my peripheral vision, I could tell other motorized were rushing our position, just as Dirk, Bend, and the mages began leaping across to the other building. It was time. I drew the small diamond piece into my right hand and a piece of coral into my left hand. I¡¯d been saving the diamond for years, and today, I needed to make an impression, and well¡­save my skin. The rooftop was suddenly empty, and I heard footfalls pounding up the stairs below me. Every eye in the crowd stared up at me, as I drew the attention of everyone within the vicinity of the market square. Absently, I noticed the magic beacons blazing all around the square. An arrow flashed past my head. In seconds that felt like hours, I drained the coral with one hand, still holding onto the diamond in the other. I then wove the matter into a spell without triggering it. Then I drained the diamond I¡¯d held onto for so long. The power that came from such a tiny piece of matter was considerable and I wove it into the most complicated spell I¡¯d ever created, a spell I¡¯d dreamed up years before but never used or shown to another mage. More bullets whizzed past my head, and Uof shouted to the crowd below, bellowing as he pointed in my direction. I tuned it all out. This was my single best chance to make an impression on Vale as a whole, and to showcase the power of a true mage of The Way. Barely a minute had passed since he¡¯d announced his reward to the crowd. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. I had no time to waste, so I triggered the first spell. Above the square a work of fire lit the air with an explosion that crackled and sparkled, spreading out into the air and making the air seem to burn. It was a broad puff of starry work in the sky meant to grab the entire crowd¡¯s attention for a moment. A distraction was all it was and while it burned, I moved back from the edge of the rooftop. When the explosion and light and fire died away, a cloud of smoke was all that was left hanging above the crowd. I heard "Oohs" and "Aaahs" from the crowd as they watched the work of fire. Into this haze, I gathered up a running start and leaped out into the air above the square. Diving into the air toward the crowd, I triggered the release of my final spell. The spell gave me lift and suddenly it felt like I had wings on my arms and my boots, and in a way, I did. The air became palpable, weighty, and I used that change in the quality of the air to push through it almost as if I were swimming. I leveled out, feeling a sense of buoyancy attach to me, and I shot over the crowd, directly toward Uof and the platform. The smoke from the works of fire covered my approach somewhat as shots rang throughout the square from both Valeguard and motorized thugs all armed with a variety of hybrid weapons. I dove right and left, pushing off the newfound thickness in the air, seeking to make my trajectory impossible to track, difficult to hit. The crowd gasped and cowered when they saw the work of fire explode into the sky. But upon seeing me sailing across the sky above their heads, they all lifted their heads. For a brief second, as I came closer to the people of Vale below, I saw a sparkle of wonder in some of their eyes. ¡°Shoooooot hiiiimm!¡± I heard Uof¡¯s voice shouted as I shot toward him. Uof actually stepped back as I soared toward the staging area¡ªand his hesitation emboldened me. Before Uof could react in any other way, I landed on the platform in front of the chair, grabbed Ehren under his arms, and rocketed straight up into the air, pushing off the air with my legs, my spell still active and working, allowing me to lift Ehren with me just as the Valeguard rushed toward me. Uof fired off a missile from his left arm that came rocketing toward me, a sizzling burn in its wake. I rose through a series of explosions and bullets and other projectiles, diving this way and that way, dodging all of it while that single missile stayed with me, following me where I flew. I dodged right and left again, and for a moment, I thought I''d lost it. So, I rose high above the square, straight up through the cloud of smoke left by the explosions of fire. Then, I halted in mid-air¡ªa maneuver I could hold for only a moment¡ªand I looked down at the crowd below me and smiled. This I did entirely for effect. However, before I could say a word to the crowd, Uof¡¯s missile exploded just below me, shuddering my hold on reality for a moment, jarring my mind, and ringing my ears. I sought to gather my senses, feeling the air begin to give way and gravity starting to pull me down and fast. Quickly, I pushed straight through the air away from the square, heading East. Ehren hung heavy in my arms. Worse, several of the explosions had hit quite close to us, and despite the adrenaline surging through me, I knew we¡¯d been hit with some kind of shrapnel. A dozen streets away from the square, I dropped us on the ground in an alley between a row of buildings, near a resistance tunnel access I knew was nearby. My arms ached, my side screamed in pain, and I felt my age once again¡ªI still heard much of the exhaustion from our attack on the Factory. Even though I knew I had drawn thousands of eyes rescuing Ehren, I''d also drawn down my energy. Despite my ragged breathing, I dragged Ehren along the ground behind me through the alley toward the hidden tunnel entrance. I heard explosions starting to rock the city as I moved slower and slower. I wasn''t going to last long¡ªI felt the edges of my vision darken slightly. A few feet down the alley, I cracked open the door of a shack that normally served as a storage facility for someone¡¯s grain and hauled Ehren inside. Slamming the wooden door behind me, I collapsed to the ground, nearly blacking out as I did. But we weren¡¯t safe yet. I took a couple of slow breaths and tried to collect myself, pushing the darkness out of my vision. Shouts went up outside as guards scoured the streets nearby. I have to keep moving, I told myself. They could search this shed at any moment. I took a shuddering breath and got up. My head pounded and my arms felt like lead weights but still, I managed to drag Ehren¡¯s body along behind a large pile of grain and toward the back of the small building. A tiny door in the floor led to a wine cellar, and after several minutes of careful shifting around, I dragged Ehren down into the cellar behind me. Closing the door above us, I checked him for the first time. He was still breathing, though I could tell that they had beaten him severely prior to the beating Uof has given him in the market square. His face was nearly unrecognizable. My own hold on consciousness felt hazy, as the black edges crept back into my vision. With considerable effort, I pulled aside a rack of wine barrels and pried open a small door in the mud wall of the cellar. I shoved Ehren into the small tunnel, pushing him ahead of me. I moved the rack of wine barrels back into place and drew the small wooden door shut behind me, crawling into the nearly pitch-black tunnel. It was there, on the floor of a dank, dark tunnel that I laid down. Trying to gather myself in the dark, I lay there, staring at the mud ceiling of the tunnel, breathing hard. How had I escaped? I thought to myself, incredulous at my own actions. And what would happen now that Uof had delivered a blow to the resistance with his offer of estates, water wells, and near-immortality? I laid on the ground next to Ehren and breathed in slowly. My mind was too thick to process the question properly. Lying there on the tunnel floor, I passed out. 27: Working the Problem 27. WORKING THE PROBLEM I woke up in the tunnel and found Ehren still lying on the earthen floor next to me. I tried to sit up but stopped short, groaning as pain racked my body. I slowly moved into a sitting position, which brought both dizziness and a vice to my head. My whole body ached. Still, I knew this was better than waking up in a prison or being tortured in a Factory by Uof, the man who strangely, was also a machine. I still hadn''t had time to process this new reality. I looked back toward the tunnel entrance, where a little light peeked through a crack in the hidden door. No one had discovered us yet, and I wasn''t sure how long it''d been, but I was alive and free. For now. My head pounded with an ache I¡¯d never felt before. My whole body felt as though it¡¯d been pounded by hammers, up and down my arms, legs, and torso. Pain coursed through me, layering upon the deep exhaustion of too much magic use in too short an amount of time. Could this be The Weakness? Too much magic use for a prolonged period of time equaled pain throughout the body? While I pondered this in the darkness of this small tunnel I heard Ehren¡¯s labored breathing¡ªwhich meant he was alive. Somehow, I needed to get him to Lissa so she could treat his wounds. I hadn¡¯t even had the time to look him over myself. I lit a small match where I sat, casting light over the tunnel, and looked closely at Ehren. I felt for his heartbeat, which felt slow but steady. His face appeared swollen and bruised, caked with blood. I couldn¡¯t see any other major wounds on his body, but this wouldn''t be the place to treat them anyway. As much as I wanted to help, I didn''t have another spell in me right at that moment. So, I turned around and looked down the tunnel. I could either go and try to find help, or I could try to take him with me. In navigating a variety of resistance tunnels within Vale these past weeks, I recalled that this particular one led to small chamber ahead, which split off in multiple directions. If I took the tunnel on the right, it would lead me to a thoroughfare that would take me to the large underground space where the resistance spent most of its time. The fact that no one had found us yet meant others from the resistance found a different route down, some had been captured, or worse. Few other options presented themselves to me, so I scraped my way to my knees, and slowly, carefully began to drag Ehren along with me, as gently as I could, for both our sakes. He was breathing but otherwise, he did not respond or stir at all. Haltingly, while shuffling on my knees, I managed to get him into the small chamber at the end of the tunnel where a small table and a pair of chairs adorned the space. The room also opened up so that I could stand up completely. I took a deep breath, getting to my feet slowly, sensing my own loose hold on consciousness. For a moment, darkness clouded the edges of my vision again, and I steadied myself on by grasping the edge of the table. I breathed in and out slowly for a couple minutes, as my vision came back into focus. Then, it came back enough that I could grab Ehren¡¯s armpits and walk backward, dragging him deeper into the larger network of tunnels. Perhaps half an hour later, I dragged Ehren into the large cavernous space where we¡¯d held all our meetings and where even a portion of the mage¡¯s training had taken place. I heard Dirk''s voice behind me, sounding like he was in discussion with a small group of men and women, handing out instructions. I gently laid Ehren down on the earthen floor, and turned to face the group. Dirk looked up as I did so, a palpable relief showing on his face when he saw me. ¡°Mage!¡± he said, rushing to my side. ¡°Thank the rivers you¡¯re alive. Is Ehren alright?¡± ¡°He needs treatment,¡± I said, breathing heavily, steadying myself on a nearby chair. ¡°He has been unconscious since they knocked him out in the square. I don¡¯t know what¡¯s wrong.¡± Then, I sat down on the chair, and took a long, deep breath. ¡°How did you even get to him?¡± he asked, his eyes wide. ¡°We''d heard rumors, but we¡¯d left the rooftop before we saw what happened to you. How did you reach him in the middle of the square?¡± While he spoke, a few of the men came over and lifted up Ehren, taking him into the next room where he could be treated. I saw Lissa follow them inside. Meanwhile, sweat beaded on my face as I sat as still as I could manage. I felt hot and feverish, again. Was this the same fever I¡¯d had before, or a new one? ¡°I got to him and moved him to safety, but I only barely got out of there,¡± I replied between breaths. ¡°What happened to you? Is everyone alive and safe?¡± ¡°It¡¯s been four or five hours, and not everyone is back yet,¡± Dirk said. As he spoke, I noticed a large gash on his forehead, and blood covered his shirt. ¡°We split up and were chased. The city is in absolute chaos tonight. People roam all over Vale looking for mages and resistance fighters. Regular citizens drag suspects through the streets on vague suspicions. Some of those who would have joined us have turned on us. I fear that some of our trusted resistance members have been captured or killed.¡± I looked at him, leveling my gaze. ¡°Is it even safe to be here, Dirk?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think so," he hung his head, obviously exhausted too. "We were just discussing when we should leave the city.¡± ¡°Bend, Greer, Willow, Briar, and Shade?¡± I asked, starting to feel heat creep up my body from the wound in my side, as well as small pains elsewhere, probably from the various close explosions I''d faced earlier. He took a deep breath, ¡°Greer and Shade are alive, they¡¯re still helping others get to safety. But Briar has not made it back yet and Willow is being treated and recovering. Bend was overconfident, and Uof¡¯s goons wounded him in a battle on the streets outside the market square¡ªsome of them heavily armed. Bend wanted to stand and fight even though I kept telling him that we needed to run. Greer and I brought him in after an explosion knocked him down.¡± ¡°Is he conscious?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± he replied. ¡°He was knocked out for some hours, but he woke up and should be fine to move soon.¡± I winced, my own pain growing so severe that the darkness threatened to take over again as it clouded my vision. Ehren, Willow, and Bend were all wounded. More resistance fighters had been killed or kidnapped. Uof had the resistance on the run. This was retaliation for our excursion to his Factory¡ªamongst other things. He was angry that we''d freed some mages, and penetrated his secrets for the first time. But what did we actually learn? How was all of this worth it if we were losing people to his thugs and the mob of citizens he had strategically turned to his cause? Even though I could barely stand, I knew exactly what I had to do. ¡°Are you okay Mage?¡± I nodded slowly, nausea threatening to assert itself and overthrow my handle on reality. The pain in my body ran throughout now, but I forced myself to keep my eyes open and awake. ¡°We need to try to figure out the workings of the spell I saw the mages using inside The Factory,¡± I said carefully, remembering the mages we''d freed, who were still at our desert outpost. ¡°When we get to the desert outpost, we can talk to the mages we freed about what these spells do. But until then, I can try it here. Uof is scared, which means we¡¯re close¡­ to something. If we can figure out how they create their hybrid weapons, perhaps that will give us an edge to take him down for good.¡± Dirk nodded. ¡°What do you need?¡± ¡°First, I just need to sit here for a moment,¡± I said. It was difficult to find a position that didn''t hurt. ¡°Bring Greer and Shade to me. I might need them to help me figure this out.¡± Dirk looked at me, concern on his face. ¡°Should I have Lissa check on you? You¡¯re sweating and your face is whiter than a bleached bone in the desert.¡± I shook my head. ¡°No, I think I¡¯ll be alright.¡± ¡°Okay, I will find them.¡± Dirk left the room. I watched him go, and then slowly, got to my feet. I had to try this spell before I could no longer stand and cast anything at all. I drew a unique piece of limestone from my pockets. I drained the rock of its inconsiderable matter, and it whisked away into nothing. Then I carefully wove the spell that I¡¯d seen the mages in Uof¡¯s warehouse casting into their machines, and over each of their weapons. I wasn¡¯t sure I had everything right in the casting. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. I triggered the spell and waited. Nothing happened. I closed my eyes and thought through once again what I had seen in The Factory only a few days before. It almost felt like I¡¯d seen it years before. Still, I recalled the mage¡¯s movements, his hands, his legs, and even his face. Had he said anything? He had not. But he had been seated during the casting, which changed the movements. So, I sat down and tried the spell again. The matter from the limestone rock remained available to me in the air, so I used it as I drew on the Source. Then I performed the spell again just as I¡¯d seen it, and triggered it. Again, nothing happened. I thought about it again, went over the mage¡¯s movements methodically in my mind. I had all the movements correct. However, as I thought through each step, I realized that he had cast the spell onto a long rifle ¡ª and the spell embedded itself into the piece of equipment. The spell would power the device, I realized then. I went searching. We had a small cache of motorized weapons in the corner, but those wouldn¡¯t do any good. They were already embedded with this spell. So, instead I drew a regular non-motorized crossbow into my hands and wondered what would happen with this simple, wooden weapon. Would the spell work? Now, however, the matter from the piece of limestone dissipated, so I drained a clear crystal, a clear polygonal shaped mineral, drew on the source, and the spark coming from me, and moved carefully through the motions again, one simple movement after another. Then, I triggered the spell and cast it onto the crossbow itself. A steaming discharge lit up into the air, and I felt a thrill as the spell worked¡ªgiving me a needed rush of adrenaline to help me stay awake and upright. I picked up the crossbow and pointed it toward a burlap target in the corner of the room. When I depressed the trigger, the crossbow whirred, and cranked, and launched an arrow toward the wall with more force than was normal for a crossbow¡ªand immediately following that the weapon discharged dribbles of dirty, oily liquid down my arm. Where had that discharge come from? In that instant I sensed the purpose of the spell and I understood for the very first time how the hybrid machines worked. I sat with the realization for a few seconds, letting it settle into me. As I did, the hairs on my arms stood straight up. I felt shock, but even more, horror when I realized the greater implications of the spell. Sitting there in the cave below the city of Vale, I understood that the world was in deep trouble. Greer flicked his hands, casting the same spell onto a different crossbow, and a sizzling burst of steam leaped from his hands, evaporating into the air. I sat on the wooden chair, grasping it tightly with both hands next to my legs as it kept my orientation facing the right way. A wave of vertigo threatened to overwhelm me every few minutes. Lissa had come to me earlier and given me a wad of leaves to chew on, which helped with the pain I felt. Her face bore the worried look some adult children get for their elderly parents when they''ve worked themselves too hard. She''s also checked me for shrapnel of any kind and bandaged up a few areas on my legs and arms, otherwise, I was clear. ¡°Shade, did you follow the spell?¡± I asked through my haze. ¡°Yes, it¡¯s drawing steam or moisture from somewhere and sending it somewhere else,¡± she said. ¡°I followed the movement, the casting, but I couldn¡¯t see exactly what happened. Then, there''s an oily discharge that comes back and spits all over the user of the weapon.¡± ¡°Could you repeat the spell after watching Greer cast it?¡± I asked. She nodded. ¡°Greer, what did you sense in the casting?¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s a very weak spell,¡± Greer growled. ¡°It felt as though it should have generated a geyser¡¯s worth of steam and energy, which would transfer to the crossbow. However, the power I felt come from the spell itself, was quite small. Not proportionate to the rarity of the matter, which means that something is wrong with the spell, or the number of casters are very, very many.¡± ¡°Anything else?¡±I asked. He paused trying to form the right words. ¡°I sensed that the source for the steam that powered the crossbow was everywhere.¡± ¡°Everywhere,¡± I repeated, nodding. ¡°That is what I sensed as well.¡± ¡°But Mage, what would this do to the crossbow?¡± ¡°Look at it," I said, having already studied the first crossbow. "It increases its firing power of the weapon by installing a small reusable steam engine in the device¡ªthis is why they call them hybrid weapons. They are part machine and part magical device, which is ironic considering how Weer and Uof sought to outlaw and destroy the magic of the Way.¡± Greer nodded, looking thoughtful. ¡°What about the mystery of the weak spell?¡± I asked. Shade spoke up first, ¡°The mystery of the weak spell should indicate that the spell is common; it is known and being used by many mages at once.¡± ¡°Yes, but there were only thirty or so mages in Uof¡¯s warehouse, maybe a few more at most,¡± I said. ¡°They were chained to the machines, which appeared to be forging weapons or tools. These mages wouldn¡¯t be enough to dampen the power of a spell significantly¡ªeven fifty or a hundred mages wouldn''t affect it too much." ¡°Maybe there are more mages somewhere who know the spell,¡± Shade replied. ¡°What if we only saw the first shift or a smaller part of the larger army of mageslaves?¡± ¡°Possible,¡± I replied, almost whispering. I breathed carefully, trying to not breathe too deep for the pain it caused. ¡°But how are they using this particular spell to create weapons?¡± Greer asked. ¡°I think that is the question,¡± I replied, with a small smile. Shade bit her lip. ¡°If the spells are what power the motorized tools and weapons and moving bikes and machines,¡± she began, grasping something larger. ¡°And if every hybrid weapon or tool Uof ever created, all over the world, uses that same spell, it would explain the weakness you sensed in casting the spell.¡± ¡°Yes,¡± I nodded, swallowing gently. ¡°If Weer embedded the spell into every one of his motorized weapons, then as we suspect, this spell gives these weapons a form of steam power. Every motorized weapon, tool, or steam cycle draws on this steam power spell. Even Uof¡¯s very own mechanized body. However, the uniqueness of each weapon or tool¡¯s design can¡¯t overcome the over-reliance on a single spell. This would mean Uof¡¯s own body is likely much weaker, and not truly as immortal as he thinks it is.¡± I watched Greer and Shade muse on this. What did this mean? What were the broader implications? I had been thinking on these questions for hours now. If the spells were embedded in each weapon or tool, every piece of hybrid machinery on the planet, of which there were thousands, Uof himself was in trouble. ¡°Perhaps Uof does not actually realize how his own factory works,¡± Greer said, his eyes bouncing around the room. "Especially if Weer built it and Uof inherited it.¡± I nodded. ¡°Good, that my was my theory too. What does the information tell us?¡± ¡°What if we could embed the very same spell in other machines and weaken the spell even further?¡± Shade suggested. ¡°Eventually their weapons would be nearly useless.¡± ¡°That is an idea, Shade,¡± I replied. ¡°Remember, it¡¯s a curve, the weaker a spell gets the less another user will affect the weakness. Imagine the tens of thousands of hybrid weapons, tools, and machines that exist in the world today. It would take many thousands more to dampen the weakness much more.¡± But Shade wasn¡¯t done working the problem. ¡°What if we could create a counter spell of some kind?¡± she said, looking down at her hands, almost as if trying to create a spell then and there. ¡°Some kind of spell that blocked the machine¡¯s ability to work or blocked this particular spell from drawing on steam power.¡± ¡°It could probably work locally, on one weapon at a time,¡± I said, nodding. ¡°And that would help us combat them individually, face to face. That could give us a defensible method for one-on-one fighting. Shade, work on some ideas for such a counter spell.¡± She nodded and smiled a determined smile. She now had something to work on, instead of just thinking about the new threats we faced as of today. ¡°We need to start collecting hybrid weapons and tools, stealing them wherever we can find them,¡± I told Greer and Shade. ¡°Then we must destroy them¡ªall of them¡ªbecause we have a much bigger problem.¡± ¡°What bigger problem?¡± Dirk asked, his voice surprising me. I hadn¡¯t realized he¡¯d been listening in from the other side of the room. He and Bend walked over and took chairs, Bend hobbling as he did so. Others stood at the periphery of the room, also listening in. ¡°Think about the cumulative effect of this spell on our world,¡± I said, stopping to cough loudly before continuing. ¡°We now know that this spell draws water to create a magical form of a steam-powered engine, sends it all somewhere else, and then discharges an oily substance that is no longer water. If this spell is embedded into each and every hybrid weapon and cycle or tool or machine in the world, including Uof¡¯s own body, it has to draw its matter from somewhere to create the steam that powers these weapons." I paused. "It is my theory that The Motorized, for several decades at least, have drawn on the water in our atmosphere to create the steam power of every weapon, tool, machine, wagon, or cycle they¡¯ve ever built. This spell draws water out of the atmosphere and into the steam engine on the weapon, then powers the weapon. The spell then sends the remaining water out, and elsewhere. We know that when matter dissipates after not being used for a spell, it goes into the Ether Dimension. That''s where I believe the water goes, and the Ether Dimension kicks back an oily discharge." I let this settle into their minds, while I caught my breath. "Now remember, this happens every time anyone uses an hybrid tool or weapon or cycle. Every single time it''s used, which is tens of thousands of times tens of thousands of tools and weapons. This would explain the rigorous and unending drought that plagues our entire world.¡± Silence fell over the room with a hush. ¡°If this is true, it would explain much of the past several decades of suffering,¡± Dirk said softly. ¡°Yes,¡± I met Dirk¡¯s eyes. ¡°In actuality, I now suspect that The Motorized are in fact, the very reason the world is a desert. And I have been to the corners of what is left of this world. It is dying.¡± Dirk took a moment to think on this, staring at me. ¡°We need to share this with every citizen of Vale,¡± Dirk said. "With every last living person alive." I nodded and turned to the rest of the group. ¡°Spread the word, everyone in Vale must know this,¡± I said. ¡°We also need to get eyes on Uof. Where does he sleep, where does he go every day? This won¡¯t be easy information to get. We also need to know whatever we can find out about this new ¡®body¡¯ of his.¡± ¡°I know someone who might be able to help,¡± Bend said. 28: Spell Testing 28. SPELL TESTING Greer flicked his hands, casting the same spell onto a different crossbow, and a sizzling burst of steam leaped from his hands, evaporating into the air. I sat on the wooden chair, grasping it tightly with both hands next to my legs as it kept my orientation facing the right way. A wave of vertigo threatened to overwhelm me every few minutes. Lissa had come to me earlier and given me a wad of leaves to chew on, which helped with the pain I felt. Her face bore the worried look some adult children get for their elderly parents when they''ve worked themselves too hard. She''s also checked me for shrapnel of any kind and bandaged up a few areas on my legs and arms, otherwise, I was clear. ¡°Shade, did you follow the spell?¡± I asked through my haze. ¡°Yes, it¡¯s drawing steam or moisture from somewhere and sending it somewhere else,¡± she said. ¡°I followed the movement, the casting, but I couldn¡¯t see exactly what happened. Then, there''s an oily discharge that comes back and spits all over the user of the weapon.¡± ¡°Could you repeat the spell after watching Greer cast it?¡± I asked. She nodded. ¡°Greer, what did you sense in the casting?¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s a very weak spell,¡± Greer growled. ¡°It felt as though it should have generated a geyser¡¯s worth of steam and energy, which would transfer to the crossbow. However, the power I felt come from the spell itself, was quite small. Not proportionate to the rarity of the matter, which means that something is wrong with the spell, or the number of casters are very, very many.¡± ¡°Anything else?¡±I asked. He paused trying to form the right words. ¡°I sensed that the source for the steam that powered the crossbow was everywhere.¡± ¡°Everywhere,¡± I repeated, nodding. ¡°That is what I sensed as well.¡± ¡°But Mage, what would this do to the crossbow?¡± ¡°Look at it," I said, having already studied the first crossbow. "It increases its firing power of the weapon by installing a small reusable steam engine in the device¡ªthis is why they call them hybrid weapons. They are part machine and part magical device, which is ironic considering how Weer and Uof sought to outlaw and destroy the magic of the Way.¡± Greer nodded, looking thoughtful. ¡°What about the mystery of the weak spell?¡± I asked. Shade spoke up first, ¡°The mystery of the weak spell should indicate that the spell is common; it is known and being used by many mages at once.¡± ¡°Yes, but there were only thirty or so mages in Uof¡¯s warehouse, maybe a few more at most,¡± I said. ¡°They were chained to the machines, which appeared to be forging weapons or tools. These mages wouldn¡¯t be enough to dampen the power of a spell significantly¡ªeven fifty or a hundred mages wouldn''t affect it too much." ¡°Maybe there are more mages somewhere who know the spell,¡± Shade replied. ¡°What if we only saw the first shift or a smaller part of the larger army of mageslaves?¡± ¡°Possible,¡± I replied, almost whispering. I breathed carefully, trying to not breathe too deep for the pain it caused. ¡°But how are they using this particular spell to create weapons?¡± Greer asked. ¡°I think that is the question,¡± I replied, with a small smile. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. Shade bit her lip. ¡°If the spells are what power the motorized tools and weapons and moving bikes and machines,¡± she began, grasping something larger. ¡°And if every hybrid weapon or tool Uof ever created, all over the world, uses that same spell, it would explain the weakness you sensed in casting the spell.¡± ¡°Yes,¡± I nodded, swallowing gently. ¡°If Weer embedded the spell into every one of his motorized weapons, then as we suspect, this spell gives these weapons a form of steam power. Every motorized weapon, tool, or steam cycle draws on this steam power spell. Even Uof¡¯s very own mechanized body. However, the uniqueness of each weapon or tool¡¯s design can¡¯t overcome the over-reliance on a single spell. This would mean Uof¡¯s own body is likely much weaker, and not truly as immortal as he thinks it is.¡± I watched Greer and Shade muse on this. What did this mean? What were the broader implications? I had been thinking on these questions for hours now. If the spells were embedded in each weapon or tool, every piece of hybrid machinery on the planet, of which there were thousands, Uof himself was in trouble. ¡°Perhaps Uof does not actually realize how his own factory works,¡± Greer said, his eyes bouncing around the room. "Especially if Weer built it and Uof inherited it.¡± I nodded. ¡°Good, that my was my theory too. What does the information tell us?¡± ¡°What if we could embed the very same spell in other machines and weaken the spell even further?¡± Shade suggested. ¡°Eventually their weapons would be nearly useless.¡± ¡°That is an idea, Shade,¡± I replied. ¡°Remember, it¡¯s a curve, the weaker a spell gets the less another user will affect the weakness. Imagine the tens of thousands of hybrid weapons, tools, and machines that exist in the world today. It would take many thousands more to dampen the weakness much more.¡± But Shade wasn¡¯t done working the problem. ¡°What if we could create a counter spell of some kind?¡± she said, looking down at her hands, almost as if trying to create a spell then and there. ¡°Some kind of spell that blocked the machine¡¯s ability to work or blocked this particular spell from drawing on steam power.¡± ¡°It could probably work locally, on one weapon at a time,¡± I said, nodding. ¡°And that would help us combat them individually, face to face. That could give us a defensible method for one-on-one fighting. Shade, work on some ideas for such a counter spell.¡± She nodded and smiled a determined smile. She now had something to work on, instead of just thinking about the new threats we faced as of today. ¡°We need to start collecting hybrid weapons and tools, stealing them wherever we can find them,¡± I told Greer and Shade. ¡°Then we must destroy them¡ªall of them¡ªbecause we have a much bigger problem.¡± ¡°What bigger problem?¡± Dirk asked, his voice surprising me. I hadn¡¯t realized he¡¯d been listening in from the other side of the room. He and Bend walked over and took chairs, Bend hobbling as he did so. Others stood at the periphery of the room, also listening in. ¡°Think about the cumulative effect of this spell on our world,¡± I said, stopping to cough loudly before continuing. ¡°We now know that this spell draws water to create a magical form of a steam-powered engine, sends it all somewhere else, and then discharges an oily substance that is no longer water. If this spell is embedded into each and every hybrid weapon and cycle or tool or machine in the world, including Uof¡¯s own body, it has to draw its matter from somewhere to create the steam that powers these weapons." I paused. "It is my theory that The Motorized, for several decades at least, have drawn on the water in our atmosphere to create the steam power of every weapon, tool, machine, wagon, or cycle they¡¯ve ever built. This spell draws water out of the atmosphere and into the steam engine on the weapon, then powers the weapon. The spell then sends the remaining water out, and elsewhere. We know that when matter dissipates after not being used for a spell, it goes into the Ether Dimension. That''s where I believe the water goes, and the Ether Dimension kicks back an oily discharge." I let this settle into their minds, while I caught my breath. "Now remember, this happens every time anyone uses an hybrid tool or weapon or cycle. Every single time it''s used, which is tens of thousands of times tens of thousands of tools and weapons. This would explain the rigorous and unending drought that plagues our entire world.¡± Silence fell over the room with a hush. ¡°If this is true, it would explain much of the past several decades of suffering,¡± Dirk said softly. ¡°Yes,¡± I met Dirk¡¯s eyes. ¡°In actuality, I now suspect that The Motorized are in fact, the very reason the world is a desert. And I have been to the corners of what is left of this world. It is dying.¡± Dirk took a moment to think on this, staring at me. ¡°We need to share this with every citizen of Vale,¡± Dirk said. "With every last living person alive." I nodded and turned to the rest of the group. ¡°Spread the word, everyone in Vale must know this,¡± I said. ¡°We also need to get eyes on Uof. Where does he sleep, where does he go every day? This won¡¯t be easy information to get. We also need to know whatever we can find out about this new ¡®body¡¯ of his.¡± ¡°I know someone who might be able to help,¡± Bend said. 29: For Vale & the World! 29. FOR VALE & THE WORLD! The evening light faded from the horizon as I watched out the dusty window. Wood popped and spit in the old fireplace in the pub¡¯s far corner. Some of the men smoked well-used corncob pipes as they ate and whispered amongst themselves, the sweet smoke of the cheap, local roughshod tobacco, creating a smoky atmosphere in the large room. Patrons talked animatedly after a day¡¯s work, the smell of sweat and alcohol and pipe smoke, mixing with the heavy and welcome smell of meat smoking in the back. After Uof¡¯s announcement two weeks before, many of the residents of Vale started hunting for rebels and mages. We''d already lost a number of bolt holes, hideaways, tunnels, and secret passages. Soldiers took all suspected rebels to one of their prisons immediately, and they''d slowly started to whittle our numbers down. Reportedly the prisons overflowed, though we knew the majority of the inhabitants weren¡¯t actually rebels at all. Public opinion in Vale seemed to be split on this overall, divided roughly by whether or not you knew someone who had been taken. Willow was still recovering while Ehren was nearly recovered himself, and more than half our numbers now sheltered outside the city in our small, makeshift desert outpost. Others of the resistance hid in plain sight, running their small stores or restaurants while helping us as best they could. Dirk himself couldn''t risk that, so he stayed out of the city full time. Weeks after Uof¡¯s big announcement and my own revealing stunt, both of which had been the talk of Vale ever since, we were desperate to share what we knew. ¡°Citizens of Vale, ¡° Bend started, standing up in the middle of the pub¡ªwhich was packed wall to wall with people. ¡°I need to tell you a story.¡± The room hushed. Some folks looked up quickly, keeping their heads low. Bend wore a long cloak with a dark hood over his head, his face largely in shadow as he spoke. I watched him from a small area on the second level above the main dining room, my features hidden within the dirty cloak of a simple tradesman. Bend cleared his throat. ¡°Uof showed himself for the first time in a decade two weeks ago," Bend said, his voice projecting out into the pub. "Soon after, a small group of us discovered the secret of how his motorized weapons and tools actually work. Now that Uof is offering extended life to you, the citizens of Vale, this should be a secret no longer. The truth could shorten your very lives.¡± The patrons exchanged nervous looks amongst themselves. However, no one wanted to show allegiance to the rebellion in public, but at least they listened and no one tried to stop him. ¡°Weer created the first hybrid tools and weapons over six decades ago,¡± Bend continued. ¡°His weapons and tools made life easier, they helped our forefathers simplify farming, build houses, and make bricks. He later applied his steam-powered creation to weapons and transportation. Life seemed to get better, easier, and safer. The land prospered and water was plentiful.¡± Bend glanced behind him, then around the room so as not to alert anyone. Greer sat near the door of the small pub, a drink in front of him, blending in. Shade sat at the bar, smiling openly at a man sitting on a stool next to her. He''d been trying to make conversation with her since we got there. One of Dirk''s soldiers stood in the back of the room, near the back exit. I pretended to listen in from the second floor seating area of the pub while I studied the room. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. ¡°Uof was born late in Weer¡¯s life,¡± Bend said to the room. Everyone was paying close attention now. ¡°By that time, the hybrid tools and weapons spread around the world. Weer¡¯s inventions were sought after items in all the villages near Vale. Traveling merchants took them far and wide and Vale became a hub for trade. Weer grew rich, the people chose him to lead Vale, and the city prospered. Uof helped his father, and when he was old enough, he began lead the effort to manufacture more weapons and tools. He trained an army to protect the city and the ideas of The Motorized went further.¡± Bend looked around the room. It was quieter than before and every person seemed to sit on edge, waiting. They didn¡¯t know where Bend was going with this tidy little history of Vale. ¡°Weer¡¯s army created their own law, he named himself King, and the legend of Vale grew. The Motorized amassed great power. They hired lords to rule over villages, towns, and cities all over the world and this brought more business but also a kind of oppression. Many of these places bowed the knee to Weer and paid homage to Vale, oppressing their people in the name of Weer. As Weer grew old, then Uof took his place.¡± He looked down for a moment and the silence was nearly palpable. ¡°However, there was a rock in Uof¡¯s boot,¡± Bend said, softer now. Some folks put down forks, and mugs of ale, leaning in slightly. ¡°At some point in the transition from Weer to Uof, they singled out a group who stood up against their petty lords and dictators. The mages of The Way did not go idly along with the new rule of law spreading the world. For decades, we thought that The Motorized had simply begun to exterminate the mages of The Way, resulting in the situation we face today with very few left. We were wrong.¡± Bend looked around the room for a moment. He was about to lay our cards on the table for these strangers, and they would likely want to turn him in for the rewards or longer life, estates, wells, and water rights. But he seemed to be holding their attention. ¡°Weer and Uof captured the world¡¯s mages and all those that they didn¡¯t kill were brought here as slaves. To Vale. While they were condemning the use of the old magics, they were using the old way itself to create more hybrid, motorized weapons. Even worse, and you must hear this: the single spell that powers each and every steam-powered weapon on this planet, does it by drawing water out of the atmosphere and sending it away. The result is disastrous: our planet has turned into a desert. You can see it all around us. The oceans are no longer healthy for living things¡ªthose oceans that are left. Our planet is dying. We need to stop the use of these steam-powered tools and destroy them or we risk the death of more of our neighbors, friends, and family. The rebellion Uof described isn¡¯t just a rebellion. We¡¯re actually trying to save Vale¡ªthe very place you live because Uof is killing the world we all live in.¡± When Bend stopped talking, no one in the room moved or breathed. He took a deep breath. He looked around the pub for a moment, almost as if inviting questions. ¡°If Uof is killing the world,¡± someone shouted, ¡°Then how do we save it?¡± ¡°This is the question we¡¯ve been wrestling with for weeks,¡± Bend replied. ¡°First, we¡¯ve started collecting all The Motorized tools and weapons we can find. We need your help to destroy as many of them as we can. You can destroy them yourself. Second, you must help us share this truth with everyone you know. Finally, you can join us. Join the fight to save Vale, the fight to save the rest of the world. Know this: If you decide to join us, we will test you because we¡¯ve been betrayed by Uof¡¯s spies many times, but if you care about your friends and your family, this fight will be worth it.¡± Slowly, Bend stepped down and moved to the back of the room. ¡°For Vale, and the World!¡± Bend shouted, stepping out the back door. Then he slipped out the back door and was gone, the solider following right behind him. His route back had been choreographed carefully, and each of us stayed behind in the pub to make sure that no one followed him. Then, after several minutes, we each slipped out separately. 30. The Spy 30. THE SPY We met up an hour later in the backroom of an old store on the outskirts of the city. On my solitary walk to join the others at the store, I mulled over the events of the days since Uof showed himself to Vale. Every day of the last two weeks, we¡¯d trained together¡ªGreer, Bend, Shade, Briar, and I¡ªand they each grew, becoming better and stronger with their conjuring. As the freed mages began to wake up, and respond to treatment, some of them joined us in training as well, and our numbers grew. Willow was still confined to her bed, recovering from the explosion on the rooftop, though we hoped she''d return soon. Ehren had finally woken up three days after Uof reappeared. He now wore a jagged looking scar on his left cheek where Uof punched him with his metallic fist. I walked around a small group of men in the outer city of Vale, whispering to each other conspiratorially. As Ehren began training again, he first trained with Dirk¡¯s resistance fighters, doggedly trying to get into better fighting shape and learning to use a sword. But he had changed in the short time he''d been a prisoner. Now, he trained angry as if Uof¡¯s public humiliation was right there in his mind every moment of every day. Perhaps it was. He started trained with the mages as well and progressed quickly in both swordplay and spellcraft, his rage seeming to fuel him. One afternoon, in our training circle, Ehren fearlessly sparred with an older and more adept swordsman, but it wasn¡¯t going well. The swordsman knocked Ehren down hard twice, and more than once Ehren had taken a wooden sword to the shoulder, or a strike to the gut. He found himself sprawled in the dirt over and over. But he kept getting back up like he didn¡¯t feel a thing. Again, and again, and even then, again. After hours of this, during which I thought the bout was over several times, unbelievably, the older swordsman eventually began to tire. Ehren kept coming at him, hard-charging like a bull, attack after attack, his eyes seething despite the dust on his face and bruises and cuts all over his body. Slowly, the fight started to turn. Ehren began to fall less, his strikes found their mark more often, and eventually, he started pushing the older swordsman back as he sought to defend against Ehren¡¯s furious attacks. By the end of their sparring contest, both men were drenched in sweat, and the veteran swordsman grinned with relief, tired as he was, shaking a few hands. Ehren didn¡¯t smile, and didn¡¯t shake any hands. Soaked with sweat, bleeding from multiple cuts, he immediately stepped into the ring with another man starting to spar all over again. Others in the resistance noticed, and while some avoided Ehren as a result, others did the opposite. One of the young, teenage fighters watching this display and took out a piece of charcoal and drew a mark across his left cheek in the shape of Ehren¡¯s scar. Ehren didn¡¯t seem to see it or pay the teenager any attention. After several of his furious bouts began to impress everyone, including me, Dirk, and some of the veteran fighters among us, the mark on the left cheek started to appear on the faces of other fighters, and within a week, at least half of our men wore it. Ehren''s determination and ferocity had become an inspiration. I kept walking toward the old store, keeping my head down as my old cloak covered my graying hair, which I had pulled back. I was more recognizable now after my very public incident with Uof. Today was the fourth time we''d shared the story of the spell in a public setting, though in addition to these speeches, other rebels shared it with individuals, spreading the story person-to-person, and each time we¡¯d met with a similar response. At least one person always left soon after we¡¯d begun, seeking out soldiers of Vale, while there seemed to be genuine curiosity from regular citizens. This time, we all saw a couple of men immediately leave the pub following Bend¡¯s exit and tear off running down the street¡ªit was hard to blame them because who didn¡¯t want an estate with a water well? We had each of them followed just to see where they went, and to whom they would report. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. When I saw him afterwards, as I stepped inside the old store, Bend''s face looked grim. ¡°The reaction wasn¡¯t positive,¡± he said. ¡°You did well, Bend,¡± I replied. ¡°The story will spread, and people will want to join us, or perhaps they won¡¯t actively oppose us." "It was a good speech, son," Greer said, stepping into the store and clapping a hand on Bend''s shoulder. "If only I had known this years ago, when I passed through other towns and villages," I said, shaking head, thinking of all the years I could have been destroying tools and weapons. ¡°I could have helped slow the tide earlier. I could have told others about this before they fought, and died ¡ª " Shade stopped me. ¡°How could you have known Mage? No one knew what the Motorized were doing. Now, we can make up for lost time.¡± ¡°This is a beginning my friends," Greer growled with a smile. And Bend, it was a sight better than any speech I ever gave." ¡°That¡¯s not saying much you old burly,¡± Shade replied. Bend laughed. There was a knock on the door. Greer cracked open the door, a looked through the crack. After whispering to whoever was on the other side, he nodded and opened the door wider. A mousy young boy with sandy brown hair stepped carefully into the room, a curious look on his dirtied face. ¡°Ah, there he is!¡± Bend said, excited. ¡°My friends, this is Percy.¡± If Bend hadn¡¯t introduced him, I would have mistaken him for one of the many homeless young teenagers already running about the city. Bend drew him further into the room and Greer closed the door behind him. ¡°Percy, tell them what you told me a few days ago,¡± Bend said. ¡°Okay,¡± the boy said, his face lighting up as he looked around the room. His eyes landed on me and noticeably widened. He took a deep breath, nervous. ¡°I¡¯ve been watching Uof for a couple of days. I found a hidden place to watch the valley¡ªthe valley with The Factory, you know? A couple of days in a row, in the mornings, I saw Uof leave his keep, the big castle at the top of the valley, and head down into The Factory building you all found.¡± ¡°How did you find this place to watch the valley?¡± I asked the young man. ¡°Did anyone see you?¡± ¡°No, I am like a ghost,¡± Percy replied with a smirk. ¡°I went to the gates, which are well guarded, and made myself invisible. I walked the perimeter of the gates all around the city. But I had to go outside the city to find this place. It is a hidden place along a cliff wall in the valley of The Factory where I can see everything that happens there.¡± Bend nodded. "Good, what else did you see?" "Yesterday, I saw Uof scolding one of his men near The Factory. He was not happy. I thought he would be slow, but his body makes him very strong and very fast. And he always has his men with him. His Valeguard. At least ten soldiers heavily armored with weapons.¡± ¡°Have you seen anyone else like him? Mechanized?¡± I asked. ¡°No, not like him, but there is one other man,¡± Percy¡¯s eyes suddenly looked worried, haunted. ¡°This one follows near Uof, but always stays in the shadows, hovering at the edges so you won¡¯t notice him. That one is scary, always watching closely, and always carrying a weapon.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve heard rumors of such a man,¡± Shade said evenly. ¡°He is said to be the greatest warrior in all of Vale, Uof¡¯s bodyguard. Goes with him everywhere.¡± ¡°I am told that his name is Ruath and they call him The Grinder,¡± Bend said. ¡°He was the best swordsmen in Vale some fifteen or twenty years ago, and I heard they gave him that name because he never stopped, he would grind down his enemies in battle, one after another.¡± ¡°Good work Percy,¡± I said, stepping forward and shaking his little hand. ¡°Do you think you can show others how to find this secret spot to watch the valley so we can watch it at all hours of day and night?¡± Percy nodded, his eyes seemed unsure of me. ¡°Yes, Mage." ¡°Bend, we¡¯ll need regular shifts of two men watching the valley at all times,¡± Dirk said, leaning in. ¡°A watcher and a runner. We need to know Uof¡¯s comings and goings. How many men are in their force? What are their weaknesses? And soon, we¡¯re going to need to get into the valley again. Can you get a rotation going?¡± Bend nodded, ¡°We¡¯ll get the others watching in regular shifts.¡± ¡°There¡¯s one other thing,¡± Percy said, a serious look in his eyes. ¡°Sometimes, like today, Uof heads North and West¡ªout of the valley and further up into the mountains¡ªbeyond where I can see him. Today, he was there for hours. What he does there, I have no idea.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll need to find a way to follow him deeper into the valley,¡± Bend said thoughtfully. I nodded. ¡°One thing at a time,¡± I replied. 31: The First Mage 31. THE FIRST MAGE Twenty-one men and women stood out in the desert, all in a line, ready to be tested by the resistance. I stepped out from behind some bare scrub brushes and a lone dead tree. A hush came over the small group of would-be rebels, each watching me as I walked toward them wearing my long black duster and hat, my staff in my right hand. Today the heat felt oppressive and the humidity had fallen so low that any sweat evaporated into the air before it could cool the skin. I stepped up toward the group, walking down the line of them, and looking at each of them in the eyes before I said a word. I tried to offer a small smile, but this was deadly serious. We knew Uof was trying to get his people to infiltrate our ranks. ¡°We know the world is dying because of Uof and The Motorized,¡± I said, slowly looking at each of them, one by one. ¡°Maybe you''ve heard the stories? It''s this simple: Our cause must succeed, or we¡¯ll all die. We¡¯ll die now, or we¡¯ll die later. All of us. Including our kin and generations ahead of us will not be born. But we cannot trust you yet¡ªany of you.¡± ¡°I know you¡¯ve each been through other tests of your loyalty already," I said. "But we have to be careful. If you prove yourself, we will teach you to fight, test you for magical ability, and train you to help the resistance. First, though, you all must test with me. Strip down to your underclothes. No hats, boots, cloaks, shirts, or pants. Do it now.¡± I looked down at the ground, and stood stock still in front of them, giving them a moment. After a few seconds of looking at each other wonderingly, each man and woman began to take off overcoats and hats and boots laying them in piles. They each stripped down to a thin layer of dirty underclothes and stood there, their skin warming up. The heat of the sun would begin to overheat their bodies in a matter of minutes, which each of them knew full well. Then I brought up my staff. I¡¯d already imbued my Staff of Matter with enough matter to weave many spells. I began a weave using the staff and finished by pointing the staff toward a small wooden bowl sitting in the dirt. It was my simple water spell. Moving my arms in the well-rehearsed pattern I¡¯d known and used most of my life. I directed the matter from the eagle toward the bowl and triggered the spell. The bowl immediately filled with water. ¡°This is a very simple test,¡± I said, almost quietly. ¡°You stand there, do not sit down. The first three people to come and get a drink of water out of this canteen will not be able to join us. We must know that you can stand up to threat and even torture for our cause. If we find that you can last and bear the heat, without water¡ªthen we¡¯ll move on to phase two of the tests.¡± Then I sat down in the dirt, pulled my hat down a little, and waited. A few of our men stood nearby with canteens of water, keeping cool themselves. From under the brim of watched our twenty new recruits, knowing that Greer and Shade were doing the same thing with other groups of people in other parts of the desert. New recruits had begun to pour in to join us from all over the city and even from outside the city as news of our rebellion spread and took hold. Between the story we told about what we''d seen in the Factory all over Vale, and the brazen rescue of Ehren in the market in front of Uof himself, we''d caused quite a stir. Still, we knew that Uof¡¯s agents would be part of this, and were likely here with us now, seeking to infiltrate our growing army. This test would not just prove loyalty, so much as strength, but we needed both. The real test of loyalty would come later. As I sat in the desert sand, waiting, I thought about the armies of the so-called First Mage. In the stories which were centuries old now, he was often called The Master of The Way, or simply, Mark, the First Mage. Legend said he was the one who had first begun to train others in magic, and codify the edicts of The Way, giving mages their tattoos when they''d reached a certain level of training. Stories told how he''d worked out the limits and laws of The Way alone, out in the desert during an extended quest to master the forces of the mysterious source of magic. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Prior to First Mage, there''d always been magic wielders, those who were smart enough or crazy enough to figure out how to cast a spell or two. In the legends, many of these early magicians were hermits, people who stayed away from society, living on the periphery and seeking the answers to the mysteries of the universe. Most of them only ever grasped thin strands of rudimentary magic and but never enough to know how it truly worked. Some even died as a result of their experiments with magic gone wrong. Mark, the First Mage changed all that. He sought out those with any sort of magical ability and trained up the first Spellcasters, an army of warrior mages who had mastered specific disciplines of The Way. They all trained in the arts of war and swordplay as well. The Spellcasters became famous for their raw ability to fight, use magic in a variety of ways to help others, and for the creation of untold new spells, the secrets of which they kept to themselves. As a result, Mark¡¯s Spellcasters toppled tyrants, lent their strength to various causes, and spread their arts around the world, beginning a renaissance period in the history of mankind. I¡¯d never been hopeful enough to dream about an army of mages, but our numbers were surging so I kept thinking of Mark and the Spellcasters. If five percentage of people showed varying levels of magical ability, we could build a small, but focused army of mages quite quickly while our resistance fighters grew even faster. We were all eager to gather and train more to help us battle against Uof and The Motorized¡ªnow that he''d shown his face, our urgency had ratcheted up fast. After forty-five minutes or so, someone caved in. A young man who began the test with pasty white skin, had earned himself a sunburn in a short amount of time, and fell to his knees breathing hard, his body overheating. A few moments later, he crawled to the water bowl, which of course, was already empty. His face fell when he realized that the bowl no longer held water. One of our men gave him a canteen, helped him dress, and escorted him away. Phase two began immediately after we had sent three people home. Weakened from the first test, the remaining men and women now stood with their clothes on, drinking from our canteens to rehydrate, most of them looking exhausted, their faces reddened. This was exactly the state of mind and body that we wanted them in for the next test. I stood back up. ¡°The next phase of our test is an interview. With me,¡± I said. ¡°You will tell me why you are here. That is all.¡± I pointed to the first person in the line of eighteen remaining volunteers, a young woman who looked determined and focused. Maybe even angry. ¡°You go first,¡± I said. She came over and we both sat down on the dirt, facing one another. As she sat, using matter from the head of my staff, I wove a fast spell, too quickly for anyone to see¡ªbinding her words to truth. This was a test that could detect deception, though they wouldn¡¯t realize that until afterward. She looked me in the eyes, and I smiled, trying to put her at ease. Her face looked hardened, her eyes fierce. She¡¯d seen some hard things in her life. ¡°What is your name?¡± I asked. ¡°Leandra,¡± she said. ¡°Why are you here Leandra?¡± After one full day of rigorous testing, we gained over two hundred and fifty men and women for our resistance forces, all of whom we tested for magical ability. We found twenty-two more men and women who never realized they had the ability to use magic and could learn to follow The Way of the Mark. The ranks of our Spellcasters grew. We also found a dozen spies who we could be certain sought to infiltrate our ranks, sent by Uof or one of his generals. We discovered each of them, imprisoning some of them immediately, while sending someone to tail a few of them to gather whatever intelligence we could. While Dirk and his men trained the regulars, readying them to be part of the resistance army, Bend, Greer, Shade, Ehren, and I took our future mages along with some of the mages we''d rescued, out into the desert immediately to begin training. We split into smaller groups and started the mages out on simple spells¡ªtransforming matter into water and fire and wind. In several days, we identified the strengths and weaknesses and discovered those who conjured the most powerful spells like Greer and those who had the ability or desire to create new spells like Shade. Other mages found their greatest gifting in the art of imbuing magic into an item or creating talismans. The mages chained up in Uof¡¯s Factory were doing this day in and day out to create motorized hybrid weapons. In essence, they were creating talismans, of a sort. We separated the Talismanic Mages out from the other Mages and had them begin to learn the little that I knew of this art form. Then they began imbuing everyone¡¯s weapon of choice with a variety of powers to help in the coming battles. As a result of our swelling ranks, rare matter became even more precious. Each of our men scoured the city for rare matter and metals of any kind¡ªwe began breaking up any motorized tools and weapons to use for spells. As a result, the city experienced a drought of sorts. Meanwhile, Dirk and Bend set up regular lookout rotations set up in Percy¡¯s hiding spot, watching Uof and The Factory. With the intelligence we gained, we knew that Uof came out to The Factory most mornings, though later in the day, he often disappeared to the North and West, beyond where we could see. This was a mystery I was determined to solve. 32: Burn It to the Ground 32. BURN IT TO THE GROUND I stepped up to the cliff''s edge, shrouded in shadow by the low bushes along the cliff top, and looked down at The Factory. The blocky rectangular building wore a stack on its roof pouring smoke and steam into the air in steady streams, shadows clinging to every surface in the early morning light. When compared with our previous excursion to this valley, something had changed. Now a knot of soldiers marched around The Factory at regular intervals, and there were sentries posted at every entry. We''d guessed that they would increase security around the Factory after our first incursion, but honestly, we expected more men to be stationed in the valley itself. We''d already taken down half-a-dozen soldiers patrolling the bluff and tied them up. We expected more resistance inside the building too. Up in the trees to my right, our warrior mages prepared for their first battle. To my left, Dirk and fifty of his soldiers stood back in the undergrowth¡ªall of them awaiting my signal. The sun wouldn¡¯t rise for another hour and shadows still haunted the valley as the night began to fade. The information we¡¯d gathered from watching this valley from Percy¡¯s hidden perch meant we knew about every watch rotation, how many soldiers went in and our of the Factory, and when sentry shift change would occur. Our mission this morning was simple: Free any remaining mages, destroy the machines, and burn The Factory to the ground. I gave the signal. Dirk¡¯s men threw a dozen ropes down the cliff face, and even before the ropes reached the valley floor, men began climbing down, scaling the wall in a quiet sprint. The Spellcasters stepped forward, all of them wearing long dark mages cloaks. Their hands went up as they began to weave a variety of attack spells from the cliff top. We saw the results quickly. Several guards patrolling along The Factory walls suddenly dropped to the ground, falling immediately unconscious. Several more soldiers standing near the entrances dropped in a similar fashion. In a matter of seconds, the guards surrounding, guarding, patrolling The Factory were all down, and no alarm rang out. Our approach was clear. Dirk''s soldiers hit the ground and ran to The Factory walls, taking up positions as more ropes went over the cliffside. The rest of us quickly descended to the valley floor in the near darkness of the pre-dawn morning. Soldiers and mages paired up on the valley floor, and each team of two entered The Factory together. I entered from a side door that opened up onto the main floor, and as before, I saw mages chained to machines with two machinists per machine working with various parts of tool and weapons, and a number of thugs patrolling around the outside of The Factory floor. I looked out across the whole of The Factory floor, and saw how many men we were up against. There were easily over a hundred workers on the machines, including the chained-up mages, who I had hoped wouldn¡¯t put up a fight, plus another dozen guards walking around inside the building. I drained a small piece of jade of its matter and cast my arms wide. I wove as fast as I could, creating an intricate muffling spell that would cover the entirety of the building. This way, we had discussed prior to the attack, no sound from whatever followed would alert anyone outside the building of our presence. At least, that was the goal. I could already hear our men moving into The Factory behind me, preparing for the larger assault. I completed the spell and moved onto the floor towards the first machine. The two machinists directly in front of me were so focused on their tasks they didn¡¯t notice me as I raised my staff and knocked them out, one after the other with brutal swipes to their temples. I quickly freed the mage before moving on. Stolen novel; please report. One of the machinist''s at the next machine saw my attack coming, and brought up a polished rifle barrel, swinging it towards my head with a shout. I stepped toward him quickly and blocked the rifle barrel, whirling the butt of my staff into his nose. He crumpled to the ground while the mage stationed at his machine watched me with wide eyes¡ªI freed him quickly and moved deeper into the Factory. I left the mages to the incoming soldiers coming in behind me. They had orders to rescue and get them out of The Factory. I had stored up a significant amount of matter in my staff¡¯s talisman, and I used that now to weave a shockwave spell, knocking the next two machinists to the ground. I clunked one on the head to keep him down. I turned around and saw a giant soldier towering over the machines. He looked directly at me, growling from down the aisle. I involuntarily flinched at seeing this monster glowering at me and striding in my direction. I moved toward him and drew a gold flake into my hand, weaving it quickly into nothing before I got too close¡ªchanneling all of its matter into my staff. The talisman glowed with power. The giant wore leather and furs, a stitching of the emblem of Vale on his chest, his hair long around his shoulders. A curious scar rode down his cheekbones on the right side of his face, plunging into a matted beard. In one hand, he gripped a large steel claw, clearly not a weapon meant for a quick kill, and with the other hand, he drew out a wide-barreled, single-handed pistol larger than any I¡¯d seen before. Rare was the man who could even heft such a weapon. This thug kept moving directly toward me, and confidence rippled from his brawny shoulders and from the smile on his face. I stepped toward him and lowered my staff, talisman pointed forward. I drew a chunk of ivory into my left hand, one-handedly weaving its matter away. The giant watched me weave and without flinching took slow steps back into an open area beyond the row of machines. I moved forward slowly, following him, and his grin widened. Behind me, I heard the sounds of battle breaking out as the Spellcasters and Dirk¡¯s Resistance fighters moved in and fought to take control of The Factory. These sounds faded somewhat into the background for me as I stepped forward to face the giant. I sent the matter from the ivory into a swirl in front of me, beginning to weave a complex concussion spell, when out of the corner of my eye I saw a man close in behind me. I stepped to the side and turned my head slightly to see who it was, but like the giant, this man stepped close to me with a huge grin on his face. I whirled around again to see another three men slide into place, boxing me into the open space. The giant had lured me into a trap. I spun in a circle, keeping my staff between them and me, and failing. Each of them had clubs and knives and other melee weapons, and their intent was clear. They meant to capture me alive and beat me to a pulp in the process. The matter from the chunk of ivory dissipated into the ether. Distracted by the trap, I''d waited too long to finish my weaves, and the matter was gone. The giant stepped in first swinging a powerful downward blow with his claw that I narrowly escaped with a dodge and a roll, but another soldier managed to hit me upside the head with his club as I rolled close. I sprang to my feet and whirled my staff around to point it at the man who¡¯d clubbed me, firing off a quick spell and sending a bolt of blue lightning into him. He slammed back and into the ground. I fired off another bolt of energy, catching the giant in the shoulder and spinning him backward and away from me. Someone clubbed the back of my head, and suddenly I felt a ringing my ears and dropped to my knees. Dizzy, I cast a strong shielding spell using the remaining matter from the head of my staff. Before the spell was complete, one man stabbed at me with a dagger and I spun to avoid it, gasping in pain as his blade entered my lower back. Then my shield dropped over me, and cut off the man¡¯s hand at the same moment and he screamed. His dagger fell to the ground, the blade glistening with my blood. The eyes of the other thugs went wide as their companion screamed at the loss of his hand ¡ª and no one ventured another attack. I had a minute or two under the shield. Despite being wounded, already, I could make that minute count. I ignored the pain from my head and the stab wound in my lower back and took up my staff in my right hand. I needed to make this count. 33: We Are Rising 33. WE ARE RISING I had only minutes before my shield would start to fade. With my left hand, I drew matter from the pockets in my cloak. I pulled out a small gemstone, a hunk of granite, and even a couple jagged pieces of metal taken from destroyed Motorized weapons. I drained all of them and sent the matter into my Staff of Matter. Thankfully, there was no limit to the amount of matter the talisman could hold, however, there was a limit to how long it would keep the matter. The matter it held, the less time it could hold it all¡ªI had to be careful of the balance. So, I knelt down and worked fast. I began to weave a multi-layered spell. In fact, as I wove, it became two spells, and then four. I wanted there to be no doubts. As I wove, I began to sweat profusely, and my dizziness grew as I began to feel slightly faint. The older wound in my side throbbed, and the new wound in the small of my back pulsed as well, in a kind of sickly rhythm. When the spells were ready, I looked up. The thugs had recovered from my feeble blows, and they stalked around me hungrily, watching me as I worked. They''d dragged the screaming, now one-handed man away. Another thug tried to fire an explosive round at the shield. It deflected off the shield and exploded off in another area of The Factory, catching fire in a corner. The giant just stared at me from where he stood near the back wall, watching me closely, the same fiendish grin on his face. The others circled more closely, like mad hyenas stalking prey. I smelled a hint of smoke from the fire. Slowly then, I stood up. For some mages, the act of triggering a spell is a rush of adrenaline akin to jump into a lake from a high cliff. The swell of power just before a spell is triggered is a physical and psychological charge of power. For me, the adrenaline rush always came, and the feeling was a good one, but the act of destruction was never something I enjoyed. However, in this place, knowing what had been happening here for decades, I tried to savor this moment. The acts we carried out now was justice. I whirled my staff around to trigger the multi-layered spell and crouched into a ball just as an explosion launched with a concussive force so powerful, I¡¯d never cast it¡¯s like before in my life. The explosion ripped out from me, as if it came from my own body, radiating from my own skin, and from my own rage and anger. The concussion exploded outward in all directions and rocked everything around me, destroying men, nearby stairwells, machines, even cracking the cemented floor on which I stood. As the explosion rocked The Factory, I felt like a stoic rock standing in the eye inside the furious swell of a hurricane. Then, just as the concussion left me, I rose up into the air. The second part of the spell pushed me up, allowing me to hover over the scene, still dizzy but able to see what was happening. I surveyed the scene of destruction. Men were down all around The Factory floor, with machines caved in and collapsed. All around me, in a wide circle, I saw a wreath of destruction. Then the final spell kicked in, and my staff became a brazier of light. I started launching fire from my Staff of Matter. My staff became what some mages called ¡°a dragon¡¯s head,¡± or a thrower of flame. I floated toward the middle of the Factory floor and sent flame toward any Vale soldiers or thugs still standing in my vicinity. I felt another rush of adrenaline as I sent bursts of fire at thugs and machines and even The Factory walls themselves. When every enemy around me was down, or burning, I dropped to the ground and almost collapsed. Regaining my senses, despite already being dizzy, I remembered the next step in our plan. I went to the first chained-up mage I could find and kneeled before him. ¡°We come with the resistance," I said as I freed him from the chains that bound his wrists. "Can you walk?¡± He nodded. ¡°I can walk,¡± he said through bleary, bloodshot eyes. His blinked a few times trying to focus on me, then he stared at me in disbelief. Years of slavery surely had devastating effects, and I could see them on his face. He went to stand, but thick chains also bound his legs¡ªbolted shut with thick locks. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. ¡°Where are the keys?¡± I asked. The mage pointed to the man lying on the floor. I saw a key ring at his belt and ripped it off, finding the thick key to the lock and freeing the mage. His eyes went wide as the cuffs on his legs fell away, the heavy chain dropping to the floor. I went ahead and transformed the matter of the chain itself, sending it into my Staff of Matter. I stood up and saw our men locking down The Factory floor, a few scuffles still happening around the edges. For the most part, the fighting was already over. The remaining thugs and machinists who continued to resist were quickly tied up and thrown to the ground. We freed all the mages as fires continued burning and smoke gathered near the ceiling. The mage on the ground before me knelt down to the ground. His legs had looked weak and shaky when he tried to stand up. ¡°You are¡­a mage¡­¡± he said slowly. It wasn¡¯t a question. ¡°I am,¡± I said carefully. ¡°I follow the Way of the Mark. There are many of us now and we are rising.¡± I peeled back my shirt showing him the tattoo on my chest. His eyes slowly met mine, the hint of a smile on his lips. His arm and hands shook as he pulled down his own shirt, showing a tattoo on his chest as well. ¡°I have prayed for this day¡­.for so many years¡­,¡± he said, tears forming in his eyes. He continued to stare at me hard as if to prove to himself that this was really happening. ¡°The day is here my friend,¡± I said, looking into his eyes. ¡°We need to get you out of here before their reinforcements come.¡± He nodded and I helped him up, walking with him to the doors. The other freed mages weren''t in any better shape, as each could barely walk, severely weakened and lacking strength. Outside it was still a quiet, calm morning, and still relatively dark as the entirety of our attack had only taken a matter of minutes. We shuttled well over thirty mages out to the cliff walls, most of whom were tired, weak, and dumbfounded, their limbs thin and atrophied. Slowly but surely, the mages scaled the cliffs with our men helping them along in the early morning darkness. Inside The Factory, Greer, Bend, Shade, Ehren, and I destroyed the machines one by one. Inside the dampening spell of quiet that I had cast over The Factory itself, we cast explosive spells over each machine, destroying them completely¡ªturning each one into a scattering of broken parts. We destroyed a large weapons cache in one of the rooms, pocketing any additional rare matter we found, ensuring that none of the hybrid machines found here would ever work again. Finally, we hauled the remaining bound, and gagged motorized thugs, soldiers, and machinists outside The Factory itself and to the cliff walls. Even though it took more time, we shuttled each of them to the top of the cliffs, where we had wagons waiting, so we could move them into our own, newly-built prison on the outskirts of the desert. These few wouldn¡¯t fight us any longer. The wagons and Dirk¡¯s army moved away from the cliff top and started the trek down the mountain. I gave them a few minutes head start before we began the final phase of our attack. Then, just as the first rays of the sun gleamed over the horizon, the Spellcaster army stood at the top of the cliffs and looked down at The Factory, now a ruin on the inside. For a moment, as we stood there looking, the entire valley was peaceful and quiet, almost as if nothing at all had happened. Then every mage stood with me along bluffs and began to weave. Greer led us by launching the first fireball at The Factory itself¡ªwe had laid wood, branches, and other tinder around the outside of The Factory walls and those quickly burst into flames. After launching a fireball of my own, I saw one of the mages who had likely been chained to a machine for years, in that very building, come over and join us. He had a look in his eyes that I¡¯d seen before. Tired and weak though he was, he stood alongside us, found some matter from somewhere, and began to weave a spell of his own. As tears streamed down his face, he sent a streaming gout of fire into the roof of The Factory, and the look in his eyes was one of anger and vengeance. We wove spell after spell sending fire into The Factory until the building became an inferno, flames licking up the chimney on top of the factory. By this time, other soldiers of Vale had woken up and shouts of alarm rang out throughout the valley. I gave a signal and our army faded back into the wilderness. Greer cast the last of the fire spells and I watched for just a moment longer as The Factory continued to burn. One of the walls fell inward to the ground, taking a large section of the roof with it. The building was a complete loss. I looked over at Bend, who stood there watching, firelight reflecting in his eyes. He looked back at me and nodded, a grim but satisfied smile on his lips. This was a day we''d both dreamed of in one form or another. And I hoped this attack would show Uof that he could not quell our rebellion, but something inside me knew that it would actually have the opposite effect. Just as I turned to follow our men, I heard a guttural roar from the head of the valley. I turned back for a moment. In the firelight, I saw the large mechanical form of Uof bounding toward The Factory, the pistons in his legs cranking. I could hear them from all the way up on the cliff tops. Surrounded by his soldiers, Uof barked out orders, anger coursing through his words. Chapter 34: Mages in Training Chapter 34. MAGES IN TRAINING While we marched back to our desert outpost, a messenger reached us, sharing the latest news from the city. The retaliation was immediate: The city had already erupted in panic as Uof¡¯s thugs methodically searched markets, ransacked every shop, pub, and residence, hunting down secret entrances, rebels, or signs of the resistance, imaginary or not. His thugs threw more people into prison, and some suspected rebels were beaten or killed with or without proof of collusion. For days afterward, Uof himself stormed around the city, seeking out mages and hints of rebellion, killing suspects himself in the middle of random streets, and rooting out anyone he could find who purported to have information on our whereabouts. As a result, anyone loosely connected to the rebellion fled to the desert with us. Our desert base swelled in size, and we built more structures and defensives to house everyone, and protect from incoming attacks. A couple days after our siege of The Factory, Uof made a show of force to try and draw us out. He marched his army through the city personally and called out ¡°Mage! Mage! Where are you?¡± every few minutes. From the western edge of the city in the foothills to city walls at the Eastern edge, Uof marched his men back and forth. We hiked back to our desert stronghold by a circuitous, hard-to-follow route through the foothills, which took longer than normal because of the exhausted and emaciated mages we¡¯d rescued, and the prisoners we¡¯d captured. The rescued mages had all required rest, food, and water, and some needed to be carried along in the wagons. Depending on how long they¡¯d been captives, some of the mages retained adverse effects from their years in captivity including everything from nightmares, catatonia, and panic attacks. Eventually, we reached the outpost in the desert hills far to the south. We hunkered down and waited, knowing we needed to let the storm pass. The stronghold which we simply called was well hidden, but it had grown so much, Uof''s men certainly knew where it was by now. Either way, we had protection at all time, so we could all recover. After we¡¯d been back at the outpost for a full day, I joined our Spellcasters out in the desert. They worked through various spell forms together, picking up their training where they left off¡ªand I could already see our forces had grown significantly. Standing next to Bend, I watched a young boy in the back row, who called himself Jaz. Brand new to our ranks, he''d arrived with his mother a few days before apparently coming from an outlying village some distance way. They were both emaciated. Today, all the practicing mages stood a good dozen paces apart on either side, standing in front of attack dummies made from wooden forms, standing on wooden poles driven into the sand. I watched Jaz move through the forms of an attack spell, a simple spell all the mages learned together. Jaz threw his arms straight up in the air, clenched his tiny hands into fists, bringing his elbows back down, and then releasing his fists as his hands reached forward¡ªsimultaneously calling out the command: "Push!" Blasts of wind ripped out from each spell caster as they each completed the basic Windpush spell, a good, non-lethal attack spell. But when Jaz attacked, there wasn''t anything basic about it. As Jaz called "Push!" a howling torrent of wind ripped from his very fingers. The attack dummy in front of Jaz snapped in half with a loud crunch, the dummy''s torso flying back and hitting another mage in the back. The same mage went sprawling as the torrent of wind slammed into him, and he lost his footing momentarily. All the other mages turned to look at Jaz. Though some of the other spells had been quite powerful, none of the other attack dummies broke. At the destruction of the attack dummy, Jaz looked around at Bend who led this little exercise. Jaz''s eyes flashed with exhilaration and a hint of an apologetic look. "Sorry Bend," Jaz called out. "I didn''t mean to do that!" Bend gave me a look, and smiled. "See, I told you, the boy''s strong," he said. "He doesn''t yet know his own power." "We have a young Greer in the making," I said. And since Bend had looked at me, young Jaz looked at me too. His eyes grew a bit worried as did so. "Well done young Jaz," I said, more to allay his fears than anything else. "You''ll learn your strength soon enough. Again!" They all lined up again and started working on a different spell form, while one of Dirk''s men began working to repairing the attack dummy. After a few minutes, one of The Factory mages came out to watch wearing a small bemused smile on his face. After a few minutes of watching curiously, he stepped into the back row next to Jaz, and joined in, making the same spell forms along with the others. Tears sprung to my eyes. I turned to the North and looked away. I remember all those months ago, when I¡¯d arrived in Vale, and it was just me. When I''d first met Dirk, on that first day, there was only one other mage I knew of in the city of Vale¡ªand he had been in prison. Now, we were training up a small mage army, and we''d rescued dozens of others we''d thought were dead and gone. The Way of the Mark was alive again for the first time in years. I looked back to mages in training and saw Dirk standing on the front stoop of the house. He caught my eye and nodded, a hint of a smile cracking his lips. Every day, one of Dirk¡¯s men slipped out of the city and brought us reports of the goings-on in Vale and we sent messages back to the city the same way. For the time being, I tried not to think about Uof at all and instead I focused on helping our new mages recover. There would be time for him soon enough. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. On the morning of the fifth day, I walked into the large bunk room where many of those rescued from The Factory lay recovering. This was one of the newer buildings that had sprung in recent days and weeks. We''d set up beds and cots, some quite crude and simple in their construction. One graying older man named Keven stood over the bed of one of the badly wounded mages. The man in the bed had spoken gibberish and thrashed about wildly when we first rescued him. Keven stood over him speaking softly, his hand on the man¡¯s shoulders. Keven cared about these men and appeared to be a leader among The Factory mages. ¡°Keven, morning to you,¡± I said as I entered. ¡°Mage,¡± he replied, looking down at the man before him. The man was asleep but murmuring as he slumbered. ¡°What¡¯s his name?¡± I asked. ¡°Deen. We grew up together in a small village outside of Vale, a few days hike from here,¡± Keven looked at Deen, who slept peacefully now. "You grew up together, then?" I asked. ¡°Yes, he and I were trained by the same man," Keven replied. "A mage of the old ways who''d served our village for decades. This mage was an outcast in our village, especially in later years as the Motorized grew in number, but he also protected our people for as long as he could.¡± He paused, and I gave him a moment. ¡°When Uof¡ª ¡± Keven spat the name with a grimace, ¡°When his thugs came to our village we fought them off, Deen and I and our master. They wanted us to join them in Vale but didn¡¯t say why. They did not ask politely. When we refused to go, they drew weapons and threatened us. For a time, they left. When they came back, they killed our master on the spot, taking Deen and I with them. This was before we knew enough about The Way to be of any real use in a fight. Even now, we¡¯ve not been formally trained. The Factory has been our home now for most of our lives. After so many years, I guess something kicked loose in Deen. He hasn¡¯t been himself for a long time.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry Keven,¡± I replied. "I''m just glad we finally got you out of there alive.¡± ¡°Me too,¡± he said. ¡°We¡¯ve already had to cleanse the minds of several of these men." ¡°You¡¯ve been able to remove the damage done to them?¡± I asked. ¡°Yes,¡± he said. ¡°With great effort, we can reset their minds, most of them. And if they''re strong enough, it is my hope they can start over, and slowly try to rebuild who they were.¡± ¡°What about Deen?¡± I said, gesturing to the man lying before us. ¡°We¡¯ll see in time,¡± he said. "It may be too late for him, but I won''t give up on him easily." ¡°Did you have a family in your village?¡± I asked him, changing the subject, and hoping to get to know Keven a little bit. ¡°My parents were still alive when I was taken to Vale, but that was long ago,¡± he said. ¡°While the threat of Uof still exists, I can¡¯t return. Not yet. If you mean to take him down, I must stay and help you.¡± Keven seethed as he spoke. ¡°Come, let us talk,¡± I said to him. I led him outside as the sun peeked over the eastern horizon, beginning to light the desert sand with an orange glow. The early light of the day shot brilliant across the sky, but the warmth of the sun hadn¡¯t yet reached us. We walked together away from our temporary home, moving between dry scrub brush and several squat, dead and twisted trees that still stood nearby. ¡°Can you tell me what happened in there Keven?" I finally asked him as we walked. "What did you see in the Factory? What do I need to know about Uof and the things he''s does there?" He nodded in response but did not speak right away, thinking. He cleared his throat after a moment. ¡°You call that place The Factory, but Uof calls it his Workshop,¡± Keven said. ¡°His father built it and he expanded it. We made weapons, machines, cycles to rove the desert, and tools for Uof¡¯s army, and for others¡ªI believe he sold much of what we made for gold. Over the years, a few of us heard him talk about orders, buyers. I don¡¯t know what went on outside of the walls of that valley because he didn¡¯t let us out. We never left that valley.¡± I nodded slowly. This is how Weer, and then Uof after him, amassed a fortune making Vale the wealthiest city in the world. ¡°After a time, our ranks swelled¡ªas they brought in other mages," Keven said. "Some of us disappeared, one at a time. We often speculated amongst ourselves: were they killed for acting out or used for other experiments? Did they simply die from being worked too hard? Did Uof use them to test out his mechanized body parts? We never found out where all of them went. Eventually, however, the tide of new mages slowed. None joined us at all in the last few years. We worked the same spells all day, every day, with very few breaks. His men kept us working, scared, and tired all the time.¡± ¡°How often did you see Uof?¡± I asked. ¡°Every few days he would come in talk with the soldiers who ran the workshop," Keven said. "He rarely ever spoke to the mages at all, though recently he had grown angrier and much more threatening. I imagine his change in attitude was your fault.¡± Keven hadn¡¯t smiled since I¡¯d seen him, but upon saying this, his mouth spread just slightly, into a half-smile. We continued walking in the cool morning, the sun beginning to warm our faces. ¡°What about his ¡®upgrades¡¯?¡± I asked. ¡°When I first arrived at the workshop, many years ago, Uof was a man, like you or I," Keven said. "Not the mechanical monster he is now. We saw additions to his body appear slowly. At first, it was a new arm¡ªthen something added to that arm, a weapon of some kind, a rifle or a crossbow. Eventually, he replaced another limb, and then another, and he seemed to embrace the change fully. He had ¡®evolved¡¯ he would say to his men." "So they weren''t making improvements to Uof''s body in the Workshop?" I asked. "No, it all happened somewhere else." Keven replied. "We all thought it was the work of a man we called The Grinder. He was a tallish fellow with an angular nose and a predatory nature, Uof¡¯s general who ran the Workshop. Didn¡¯t talk much, just watched everyone. He knew how everything worked and we assume he helped Uof become what he is now.¡± ¡°Why didn¡¯t he mechanize himself, this Grinder?¡± I asked as we walked over a rise. ¡°I don¡¯t know," Keven replied. ¡°Such irony,¡± I said, almost to myself. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Uof built an empire known for oppressing and killing mages of The Way,¡± I said. ¡°We always thought that he killed every mage he found, removing all obstacles to his Motorized culture But all along he used those very mages to grow his empire: he harnessed the old ways and built his empire on their backs.¡± We walked on as I considered what Keven had shared. ¡°You will take him down won¡¯t you, Mage?¡± Keven asked finally. ¡°We will try,¡± I said. ¡°You will kill him?¡± I looked at Keven, whose face seethed with bitterness. ¡°Yes,¡± I replied evenly. We turned back to return to the outpost, and I looked toward the West, toward the Broken mountains. Even though it was a long hike away, I could hear the bustle of the city to the North of us, a low hum of humanity and the grinding clunk and hiss of machinery. The occasional grumble of a motorized cycle could be heard blurting out in the distance. Today, however, something new appeared on the horizon toward Vale. Smoke rose from the city at several different locations, from what appeared to be three or four dense fires. As we walked back toward the bunkhouse, one of Dirk¡¯s messengers ran out to meet us, panting hard, sweat soaking his clothes. ¡°Dirk sent me to fetch you,¡± the messenger said through gasping breaths. ¡°What happened?¡± I asked. ¡°Uof discovered our tunnel system, the main headquarters and he found some of our men. He burned buildings, and his thugs are tracking every tunnel to its entrance. They¡¯re burning all shops that offered entrance, tearing tunnels down, and killing the resistance fighters they found. Mage, Dirk is in the city and he pleads you for help.¡± I nodded, ¡°Go now, and tell Dirk that I am coming.¡±